HP and the Legend of the Golden Serpent
by Camille
Summary: COMPLETED! Sixteen years ago, a prophecy was made, and now it's time that it came true. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione begin their fifth year at Hogwarts, they are about to discover a secret, hidden for fifteen years . . .
1. Salem

**Harry Potter and the Legend of the Golden Serpent **  
by Camille   
_______________________________________________ 

_**· Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. **_

_**· ** **Summary:** Sixteen years ago a prophecy was made, and now it's time that it came true. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione begin their fifth year at Hogwarts, they are about to discover a secret, a secret that may very well be exactly what Voldemort is looking for. _

_**· ** **Author's Note: **This story started out as a historical fiction project for one of my English classes. Obviously it somehow mutated from that to a Harry Potter fanfic. This fanfiction was written with two goals: (1) to allow me to work on developing characters, which explains the large troop of original characters incorporated (2) to have fun with overdone, and frankly often annoying, previous Harry Potter fanfic stereotypes. I suppose I was feeling rebellious when I started, so I purposefully included American exchange students, weird powers, long-lost relations - generally hated things like that - and then tried my hardest to try and write a salvageable fic using the most difficult material to work with. Comments, both good and bad, are welcome; though, constructive criticism is preferrable. So please share! _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 1: Salem**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

The pink hues of summer morning crept silently through the gaps in the drawn curtains. The early morning rays moved expertly along the floor, engulfing all in its path in an eerie bath of warmth. As the room became brighter, the bath of light reached the far corner and moved up the peaceful body lying tangled in bedsheets. And as the rays of morning reached the top of the bed, where jet black hair laid strewn wildly, contrasting sharply against the pure white pillowcase, Adrienne Miles' eyes snapped open. 

Adrienne looked bemusedly around her dormitory, currently void of her six roommates. She reached up and swept a strand of hair from her face as her eyes took in the unearthly glow of the room. With great hesitation, she sat up and tumbled out of her bed. 

"Damn," she yelled, tangled on the floor in her sheets, her hair hanging wildly in her face. She struggled to untangle herself, managing to stand, just to tumble over sideways, knocking into the uninhabited bed nearby. 

"OW, someone's going to hang!" she yelled, battling with her sheets some more, finally liberating herself from her cloth prison. She shook her head and glared around the room. 

"This is getting really old," she mumbled, throwing the sheet at the open window. "One day, that's all I ask, one day without falling out of bed... is that too much?" 

*** * * * ***

The teachers sat in the cafeteria, chatting subduely. 

"First week of vacation!" sighed a brunette in navy blue robes. 

A man next to her looked up from his bacon: "Right on, Mia! No more little brats for two months!" 

"Joe, come now," began Mia. 

"No more playing mommy and daddy to rude and obnoxious teenagers," Joe finished. 

"No real responsibility," piped up a younger, sandy-haired man at the other side of the table. 

Everyone nodded their agreement and sat relishing the peaceful silence that only graced the Salem Academy of Magical Studies for two months a year.

"Listen, isn't it quiet!" the sandy-haired man sighed. 

"OW, someone's going to hang!" came a voice, pounding through the open window nearby. 

"New definition of quiet, eh, Ralph?" asked Joe, rolling his eyes.

"I knew it was too good to be true," Ralph muttered. 

"I wonder what she'll do this summer?" Mia mused. 

"Well, she's already blown up a potions laboratory," remarked Joe. 

"And don't forget transfiguring all the doors into brick walls," piped up a middle-aged teacher named Leslie. 

"And that time when she froze the lake." 

"No, she topped it when she enchanted all the brooms to fly only vertically." 

"There's always the time when she managed to turn the hallways into quicksand," Mia replied. 

"Can I help it if I'm a little clumsy?" came a new voice. A tall black-haired girl strode into the cafeteria, her green school robes billowing behind her. 

"Ah, Adrienne, we were just discussing your superb magical abilities," said Joe, his eyes twinkling. 

Adrienne glared at him, her green eyes glinting ominously. "So I heard, Professor Glenn," she said, pulling out an empty chair. 

"So, Adrienne, what was it this morning? Set your hair on fire trying to dry it?" asked Mia. 

"Find a Boggart in your closet?" asked Ralph. 

"What would it turn into, Ralph, a mishap proof day? That would surely ruin her hilarious reputation," joked Professor Glenn. 

"It was my sheets," muttered Adrienne, embarrassed.

Leslie looked at her curiously. "What did you do, transfigure them into bed bugs?" 

"Sorry to disappoint your thirst for humor, but no magical mishaps thus far, Professor Sloan. Just had trouble detangling myself from my sheets." 

"Sheets can be tricky, Adrienne," began Professor Glenn, smiling mischievously. "You got to keep an eye out for them - they'll just sneak up on you and before you know it, WHAM!" he brought his hand crashing down on the table. All the dishes rattled. 

"Professor Glenn!" called a wizened witch at the table's head, her eyebrows raised. 

Adrienne smirked and poured herself a glass of orange juice. She leaned back in her chair, raised the glass to her lips, and looked around her. The cafeteria was empty of its usual hundreds of circular tables, a sure sign that the school was closed for the summer vacation. All the students had left to spend their two months leave with their families, that is, all except for Adrienne. She stole a glance at her professors; she was with her family too, or at least the closest thing she had to a family. 

"No nightmares last night, Adrienne?" asked the Headmistress, Julia Bell. 

"We would have all heard her if she did," said Professor Glenn quietly. Adrienne glared at him, and he shrugged his shoulders as if to say, 'Its the truth.' Adrienne looked down to the end of the table. 

"No, Professor Bell, none last night." ****

* * * * *

_ It was dark, black, cold. She saw him. He was there, in front of her. She wanted to help him: He was in danger. She raised her wand to free him from the ropes but nothing happened. She couldn't do anything but watch in horror as the crazy man advanced on him with a knife. _

"Oh please, someone, help!" she screamed, looking around wildly. 

She tried to move to stop the man, but she couldn't do anything. She shut her eyes as he swung the knife. Seconds past and she forced herself to look. The boy was still tied, blood pouring out of a cut on his right arm. Suddenly, he looked at her and their eyes met. She couldn't speak, move, or look away. She just stared transfixed, praying that the boy wouldn't die. 

Adrienne's eyes snapped open, her breath ragged, her heart pounding, trying to leave her chest. Her knuckles were white from gripping her sheets. She stared wildly around the room. 

"It was just a dream, Adrienne, only a dream," she whispered. 

Adrienne closed her eyes, took a deep breath and reopened them. Her dormitory came into focus. Shadows reflected off the walls in the moonlight. Her curtains rippled in the breeze. Everything was normal. 

"Just a dream," she muttered as she slid out of bed and made her way over to the desk where she kept her journal. _July 30, 1995,_ she wrote and then proceeded to describe as much of her dream as possible. As she signed the paper with a flourish, Adrienne Lily Miles, her mind drifted back in time. 

She had been eleven when she received the letter. She had been sitting in bed at the 5th Street Children's Home in New York City, crying silently. It was July 31st, 1991, her 11th birthday and no one had remembered. The day had been no different from any other before it: She had been pushed, kicked, slapped, and told off. She sat silently with her head on her knees. Then she felt it, a flutter of soft wings on her shoulder. It was an owl, the largest, most beautiful tawny owl she had ever seen. Adrienne wiped the tears form her eyes and picked up the letter it had deposited in her lap. The owl settled itself neatly on the metal stand of her bed, as if it were waiting for something. Adrienne ripped open the envelope and a heavy parchment fell out. She slowly unfolded the parchment and began to read: 

The Salem Academy of Magical Studies   
Headmistress: Julia Bell, Ph.D. Magical Philosophy   
Dear Miss Miles: 

It is our deepest pleasure to inform you that you have been accepted to the Salem Academy of Magical Studies, the most prestigious school of magic in the Americas. Please find enclosed a list of supplies required and directions to the Gallows. We await our owl by August 15th.   
Sincerely, 

Julia Bell   
Headmistress 

Adrienne stared flabbergasted at the parchment. That had been the beginning, the beginning of her new life. She had friends now at Salem; she felt at home there, and the best part was, they agreed to let her stay over the summer until she graduated. It hadn't been all great though, that was also when her nightmares began: Horrific ones ranging from flashes of green light and evil laughter, to two boys battling a troll, to a boy and a giant snake, a hoard of Dementors, and now, beginning tonight, a boy tied in a graveyard. Adrienne didn't know who this boy was, but she felt a strong connection to him, like she knew him somehow. "But he's only a dream, only a figment of my overactive imagination," she reminded herself. Adrienne put her journal away, walked over to the window, and stared at the moon. She was glad her dream had ended before anything else happened to that poor boy. 

*** * * * ***

"There aren't going to be any little surprises this time, will there boy?" 

Harry Potter looked up from his book so he could see his uncle. "No. They're Muggles," he replied shortly. 

His uncle raised his eyebrows. "Muggles?" 

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, Muggles. You know, people not like me... people like you," he replied, trying to think of a way to describe Muggles without saying the "M" word. He knew that if he didn't make his uncle mad everything would go a lot easier. Harry stole a glance out the living room window; the Grangers still hadn't arrived. He sighed and turned back to his book, marveling at his luck. The letter had arrived a week ago, written in Hermione's ever so familiar perfect handwriting. 

_Dearest Harry,  
You will not believe this! I can hardly believe it! My parents are taking me to America for the holidays, and they told me I could invite you and Ron. Please say you can come. It will be so much fun, and you need something to take your mind off of things. Think, New York City, Broadway, Wall Street, and... the Gallows - only the most famous American wizarding town. I have to visit it! Ron has already agreed. Please come - you have no excuses, it'll be my treat. _

Love,   
Hermione 

How could he say no? As she said, he didn't have any excuses. Not even his aunt and uncle could stand in his way, just one mention of Sirius and it was settled. 

A soft knock summoned Harry from his reverie. Uncle Vernon made his way slowly towards the front door, straightening his best suit. Aunt Petunia stood nervously in the middle of the room; Dudley had locked himself in his bedroom and from the loud grunts and scrapes, Harry was quite certain he had hid, or tired to hide, under the bed. Uncle Vernon opened the door and scowled, only to be met with the friendly smiles of Mr. and Mrs. Granger. 

"You must be Mr. Dursley," said Mr. Granger politely, thrusting his and forward. Uncle Vernon didn't take it. "I'm Doctor Richard Granger and this is my wife, Elizabeth." 

Harry silently heaved his trunk into the air and smiled at the Grangers. Mr. Granger looked nothing like Hermione. He was tall with a dark crew cut; his hair was flecked with sparse gray hairs. Mrs. Granger, though, looked like an older, more sophisticated version of Hermione, except instead of curly hair, she had a bluntly cut shoulder-length mane. She was very pretty, and Harry thought she looked like the kind of mother who had hot chocolate-chip cookies and milk ready each day after school. She looked like the kind of mother who made hot cocoa and told stories by firelight on snowy evenings. She looked like the kind of mother he had been denied his entire life. Harry shuddered and walked towards the Grangers. They stepped out of his way, and Mr. Granger took his trunk. 

"Thank you, sir," Harry said as he turned to face his uncle, who stood stiffly in the doorway, refusing to talk. 

"See you next summer then," Harry said, and to his surprise, Uncle Vernon replied, "Watch yourself boy, you mind whatever manners you have then." And with that, slammed the door in Harry's face. 

"Well, that's an improvement," Harry muttered. 

*** * * * ***

Harry had never once been in a Muggle airport, nor had Ron; however, Hermione, having traveled all through Europe, had. 

"I just love to fly!" she exclaimed giddily as the three followed Mr. and Mrs. Granger through the crowded Heathrow Airport. Ron shot a very nervous glance at Harry, who just shrugged and tried not to burst into hysterics at Hermione's enthusiasm. 

"Look you two - that's a plane," she said, expecting excited remarks, but they didn't come. 

"Wow, that's a plane!" said Harry sarcastically. 

Ron looked very skeptical, his freckly face screwn up into a confused expression. "You have to be kidding me! You can't get that piece of metal to fly!" he exclaimed. 

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Must I remind you that you were the genius who decided to fly a car to Hogwarts!" 

"But that used magic. There's no way that thing is going to get off the ground!" he exclaimed matter-of-factly while glaring at her. 

"Shhh, people are staring at us," hissed Harry, looking around fervently. 

Several people around them had stopped in their tracks to hear the conversation. Hermione shot a dirty look at Ron and placed her carry-on bag onto the x-ray's conveyer belt. Ron stood silently, not following Hermione's lead. 

"They aren't going to let you through unless they scan your luggage, Ron," she said shortly. 

"Will I get it back?" he asked hesitantly. 

"Of course!" she exclaimed, grabbing his bag and tossing it onto the conveyer belt. "You are so naïve Ron," she muttered. 

"And you, Hermione, are a know-it-all," Ron shot back. 

_* * * * *_

Adrienne ran into the teachers' lounge and flung herself backwards onto a well-loved couch. Professor Joe Glenn and Professor Mia Hartel looked up at her questioningly. 

"Yes, Adrienne?" 

Adrienne raised an eyebrow and smiled an unsure half smile. "Quick question. Let's say, hypothetically speaking, of course, someone was trying to help the kitchen elves, er, work faster, and um, by mistake, made them age more rapidly instead. What would happen?" 

Professor Glenn rolled his eyes, as did Professor Hartel. "Hypothetically speaking, Adrienne, this person would end up in quite a lot of trouble." 

"Especially as this person is underage and can't legally do magic without her professors' permission," finished Professor Hartel. 

"Ok, fine, but what would this person do to counteract the charm?" Adrienne urged. 

"Tell her professors and ask them politely to fix it," replied Professor Glenn. 

"So, if this person asked you for help, you'd help them?" asked Adrienne, tumbling off the couch and scrambling to her feet. 

"Hypothetically, yes," replied Professor Hartel. 

Adrienne grinned. 


	2. The Third Prediction

_**· Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. **_

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 2: The Third Prediction**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Ron sat quietly, his face pressed up against the window of the plane. 

"Would you look at that, these Muggle contraptions do work! My dad would love this," he muttered, amazed. Suddenly he jerked his head past Harry and Hermione to the flight attendant pushing a drink cart. "They have drinks on this metal death trap too?" he asked, his eyes wide. 

Hermione shook her head and smiled in embarrassment at the flight attendant. "My brother, he's not all there," she whispered to the curious lady, who smiled an encouraging smile and handed them drinks. 

"So Hermione, what are going to be doing in America?" asked Harry, putting down the in-flight magazine, dearly hoping he wouldn't have to test whether the rock-hard seat cushions actually floated. 

"Sight see," replied Hermione casually, her nose buried in a book. 

"Where Hermione? You must have our entire itinerary already planned out down to the last second," he replied wearily.

Hermione looked up from War and Peace, a manic grin on her face. "First off, the Gallows," she said reverently. 

"The what?" asked Harry. 

"The Gallows. It's like Diagon Alley, except its home to the oldest, most prestigious wizarding school in the United States, the Salem Academy." 

"The Salem Academy? Isn't that supposed to be one of the leading schools in Defense against the Dark Arts?" asked Ron, again prying himself from the now very smudged window. 

"Yes, some of the best Aurors began studying there and transferred to Hogwarts later so they would be able to get a job at the English Ministry," said Hermione. "And I want to go visit it." 

"Why? It's just a school," said Ron, mystified. 

Harry turned to look at Hermione and groaned, registering the very familiar gleam in her eye. "No, not this year, Hermione!" he whined. 

"House elves, Ron! It's the only school that employs all freed house elves. I want to interview them to help my S.P.E.W case." 

Harry closed his eyes: He was getting a headache just thinking about her house elf obsession. "No way, Hermione, not again, please say your joking." 

Hermione glared at Harry and turned back to her book without saying another word. 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne stood up, her hands on her hips, and surveyed her work. She had scrubbed the entire cafeteria floor with a toothbrush as punishment for illegally aging the kitchen elves. She wiped her wet hands on her green school robes and headed out the cafeteria doors towards the teacher's lounge: She had a staff meeting to crash. 

"So, what have I missed?" she asked, swinging open the door. 

All the professors looked up at her, clearly not impressed. Adrienne didn't seem to notice. She walked right in, pulled up a chair, and joined the group. Professor Bell looked at her. "This is a staff meeting, Adrienne," she said calmly. 

Adrienne cocked her head as if she didn't understand, "So?" 

"So, you are a student, Adrienne. This is hardly an appropriate situation for you to be in." 

"Oh come on, Professor! This is a perfect situation for me. You guys need a fresh point of view in here anyway. How about you all discuss whatever world-changing things you guys usually talk about, and I'll tell you what the students will think," she said, and then as an afterthought added, "That way you won't have any 'little' protests like you did last year when you tried to make classes start an hour earlier." 

"Adrienne! You started that protest!" exclaimed Professor Glenn, shaking his head even though he always found Adrienne's less-than conventional actions hilarious. 

"Precisely my point! Listen to me now or listen to me when I have the entire school backing me up. If I remember correctly, my 'little' protest was successful." 

Professor Bell took a deep breath; she was having a hard time remembering why she had volunteered to take in such an ornery girl. "Fine, Adrienne, but do try to limit your interruptions." 

Adrienne settled back into her chair, smiling smugly. 

"As I was saying, this year Hogwarts is only accepting three transfer students. We have already decided on Tricia Leoni from the seventh year so she can study animagi with Professor McGonagall and Charles Gromble so he can study under Professor Vector, as his Arithmancy levels have far surpassed the curriculum taught here. That leaves us with one more student." 

At this, Adrienne sat up bolt in her chair. 

Professor Glenn spoke up. "What about Michelli Vandetta?" 

"What about her?" asked Adrienne rolling her eyes, "Michelli plans on designing dress robes for a profession. Choose someone who would really benefit from attending Hogwarts." 

Everyone looked at her. 

"And who, Adrienne, would really benefit form attending Hogwarts?" asked Professor Bell. 

"Someone planning on being an Auror. You know England has the best Auror program, and you also know that you have to study at Hogwarts to even be considered for acceptance into their program." 

"I'm not aware of any student interested in becoming an Auror, especially with the memories of all the deaths and torturing when You-Know-Who was powerful. No, I think Michelli would be good," said Professor Sloan thoughtfully. 

"Wait, hypothetically speaking . . ." began Adrienne. 

"Here we go again," sighed Professor Hartel, slumping in her chair. 

Adrienne glared at her. "Hypothetically speaking, if a student were interested in being an English Auror, would you choose him because of the necessity of a Hogwarts education?" asked Adrienne, her eyes roving furiously around the table. 

"She has a point," commented Professor Glenn, looking at her intently. 'When she uses the word hypothetically she always is referring to herself - where is she going with this,' he asked himself. "That is the only way to get into the English Ministry, and who in their right mind would want to be an American Auror? I mean, honestly, our program is horrible!" 

"Traditionally, aspiring Aurors have been given preference, yes," said Professor Bell, "but they also must be in good academic standing." 

Adrienne smiled smugly. "I want to be an Auror, and I have a ... uh ... decent academic standing. What about sending me to Hogwarts?" 

The room fell deathly silent, and Adrienne shifted uncomfortably in her seat. 'Maybe that wasn't the best way to go about it,' she told herself. 

"You an Auror? Come now, Adrienne," Professor Glenn exclaimed, mistaking her comment for a joke. He chuckled and soon Professor Hartel joined in. In seconds all the professors were laughing. 

Adrienne's eyes narrowed. "It isn't that funny, you guys," she said angrily. 

Professor Sloan stopped giggling. "Adrienne, come now, Aurors must be in complete control; you frequently send the castle into uproar, transfiguring doors, floors, people, and all this unintentionally." 

Adrienne pursed her lips; she wasn't going to let them laugh at her. "I'm top of my class in dueling, and I can usually do all the other charms, spells, and incantations for classes... I'm just a 'little' clumsy." 

"A 'little' clumsy? Aurors are constantly in danger; you can't afford to be a 'little' clumsy. You learn your skills for you lessons, Adrienne, but you don't retain the knowledge," commented Professor Bell. 

Adrienne took a breath. "I could try harder," she muttered. No one said anything. 

Adrienne sat quietly in her chair. This was her chance, the chance every student in the school would want, and they weren't going to let her because she had had a couple mishaps with her wand. 

"But I have to go!" she said, suddenly feeling very anxious. 

Professor Bell looked at her strangely. "Why do you _have_ to go Adrienne?" she asked. Adrienne looked into her eyes; they were searching hers. 'Why on earth would Adrienne suddenly have an urge to be an Auror when for the last four years she has proclaimed to want to run a reformed Muggle orphanage,' thought Professor Bell. 

Adrienne closed her eyes; she didn't really know why she 'had' to go, but something told her she had to. Something deep, deep down in the bottom of her gut, told her she had to, told her she had no choice. 

"Adrienne," came Professor Bell's voice. 

Adrienne didn't open her eyes; she could see him, the boy tied in the graveyard, and suddenly her heart fell. 

"Because…. because…oh never mind," and with that Adrienne miraculously stood up without knocking over anything and strode silently out of the room. 

* * * * *

Adrienne sat quietly in her dormitory. She didn't know what had come over her. She had just meant to disrupt their meeting and the next thing she knew she had had the sudden, gripping urge to say she wanted to be an Auror. This wasn't entirely true. She had never considered being an Auror until they mentioned Hogwarts. At the mention of the name, her stomach had tightened and she felt as she had when Professor Hartel had put her under the Imperius Curse: She felt as if something was controlling her actions and thoughts. She felt the sudden, irrational urge to go to Hogwarts; and the only way to get there, a desire to be an Auror - that's why she had said it. But why? 

"Why?" she asked, walking to her window. 

Then she saw it again for the third time that day, the boy tied in the graveyard. The boy who she couldn't help, but felt as if she had to. Another irrational thought entered her mind. 

'What if he isn't just a dream? What if he's real?' 

"No!" she mumbled as she drew her curtains and crawled into her bed still dressed. 

"No, he's just a dream," she whispered as she closed her eyes trying to block out the image of the boy. 

*** * * * ***

Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore were chatting in the staff room when the door creaked open and Sibyll Trelawney tiptoed in, a strong musky perfume accompanying her. 

"Ah, Sibyll, what a pleasant surprise!" exclaimed Albus, his blue eyes twinkling behind his characteristic half-moon spectacles. 

Minerva glared at her. "Did the orb inform you, Sibyll, that you would entertain yourself in the staff room this evening?" she asked shortly. 

Sibyll raised her eyebrows behind her thick glasses. "As a matter of fact, it did, Minerva," she said airily, pulling up a chair to her two associates. 

Minerva rolled her eyes and shot an awkward glance at Albus. "I have things I must do, if you'll excuse me, Albus," she said, not at all feeling up to bickering with Sibyll, which did happen to be one of her favorite pastimes. 

Minerva picked up a pile of books and was almost to the door when she heard her name. She turned around and saw Albus motioning to her. She took a deep breath and strode back to her seat. 

"What is it?" Minerva asked, irritated, and then she heard it. 

"Separated, one will die, but united, they both will conquer. The life of one is in the other's hands, and our fate in their hearts," came a deep unearthly voice, and Sibyll Trelawney slumped unconscious to the ground. 

"Now that made no sense at all," sighed Minerva, reaching for her wand to enervate the unconscious woman. "That loony old bat," she muttered. She raised her wand, opened her mouth, and stopped. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Professor Dumbledore, staring out the window and to her surprise she could have sworn she heard him whisper: 

"How is this possible? How?" 


	3. Through the Oak Tree

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 3: Through the Oak Tree**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Harry Potter lay awake in his Boston hotel bed, listening to the soft snores coming from the bed next to his. Harry rolled over and lifted his head to look at Ron. 

"Lucky," he whispered and laid back down, "He doesn't have nightmares every single night." 

Ever since the night that Cedric had died, he had had the same nightmare, the scene from the graveyard; that is, every night until the previous one. Harry could have sworn that in that one there had been a young girl, watching the events, horrified. 

"And now this," he whispered to the dark. The dream that had woken him up minutes earlier had been the first dream not about Voldemort's return. This hadn't made it a comforting one though. There had been a girl, the same girl from the graveyard. Harry didn't know the girl, but she looked remarkably like him. She was standing in the middle of a room, staring wide-eyed into the corner. At first, Harry couldn't tell who she was looking at, but then he saw the snake-like eyes and heard the words, "Avada Kedavra!" and as the room was engulfed in a blinding green light, Harry had woken up. 

Harry shook his head and rolled over to look at the clock; it was 2:45. He was now officially fifteen. 

*** * * * ***

_The room was dark and cold and although she couldn't see, she knew she wasn't alone. She could feel his presence: She could feel the evil cutting the air as if it were as tangible as a knife. She didn't move, didn't breathe, dreading what she would see if the lights came on. As an eerie green light filled the room, a horrible realization struck her: She was standing face to face with a man she had only seen in her dreams. He was the man who had killed the pleading woman; he was the man who had been under the turban; he was the man who had tortured the boy in the graveyard. Adrienne screamed, her voice echoing through the room, mingling with the echoing evil laughs of the man as he raised his wand. _"Adrienne, Adrienne!" 

Adrienne's eyes snapped open. She didn't know where she was; people were crowded around her, hastily dressed, wearing worried expressions. A light flickered on and Adrienne blinked. Professors Bell and Glenn were standing over her, several of her other professors standing behind them. Adrienne closed her eyes and took a few calming breaths. 

"Adrienne, it's alright. It was just another nightmare," said Professor Glenn, reaching down and smoothing her hair. 

"I know you don't want to tell us, but we can help you of you let us know what is happening once you fall asleep," urged Professor Bell. Adrienne didn't answer. She didn't know who the boy or the man was, she had never seen their faces clearly, or anything else clearly for that matter; they couldn't help her. 

"No, I'm ok now," she whispered. 

Professor Bell sighed and turned towards the door. "Go back to sleep then, Adrienne," she said. 

The rest of the professors filed out after her. Professor Glenn was the last one to leave. He stopped at the door, his face contorted in a worried expression. 

"Come on, kid, this isn't a great way to begin your birthday," he whispered and then slowly shut the door. 

Adrienne didn't move, her mind drifted back to her nightmare, to the man: She had a bad felling, the feeling that this wouldn't be the last time she would see him. 

*** * * * ***

Hermione, Harry, and Ron walked through the forest's brilliant morning light, chatting quietly as Hermione searched for the entrance to the Gallows. 

"Sleep well, Harry?" asked Ron popping an M&M into his mouth. 

"Hmmm," Harry mumbled, shrugging his shoulders. 

"No nightmares?" asked Hermione, stopping short in front of a large oak tree. 

Harry rolled his eyes. "Just one." 

Hermione whipped around. "The same nightmare?" she asked. 

"No, it was a new one." 

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "A new one? About what?" 

"There was a girl I didn't know," he replied. 

"That's all?" asked Hermione, starting to feel relieved. 

Harry's nightmares had really started to worry her. When she had first heard that Harry was have frequent nightmares she had put researching dreams at the top of her to do list for when she returned to Hogwarts. Unfortunately, they wouldn't be there for another month. 

"Voldemort killed her," added Harry quietly. "Where's this entrance?" Hermione didn't answer. 

"Don't say that name!" Ron winced, "You think it could have really happened? Like the one last summer?" 

Harry shook his head, "I don't know." 

"Come on Hermione!" Ron said, changing his attention to the silent, far-away looking girl. 

Hermione snapped back from her confused thoughts. "Oh right," she muttered. 

Harry breathed a sigh of relief; the sooner he got the vision of the scared girl being engulfed in green light out of his mind, the better. 

Hermione turned to face the tree again. "It's like the barrier at Platform 9 ¾. We just walk through... I think," she added this last part hesitantly. 

"You think?" asked Ron, his face bursting into a wide grin, "Miss Know-it-All doesn't know something for sure?" 

Harry smirked: Ron hadn't looked so delighted since Draco Malfoy had been transfigured into a Ferret. Hermione shot Ron a death-stare before she walked right into the tree. She disappeared before their eyes. 

Ron's smile fell. "For once can't she just be wrong? Once, that's all I ask!" he moaned. 

As Harry entered the tree he was engulfed in darkness and then... "Merlin," he whispered. 

He, Ron, and Hermione were standing in a large town square, bustling 18th century style shops were all around them. Wizards and witches strolled causally along the cobblestone paths, chatting pleasantly. 

"This is amazing," said Ron, turning in circles to see everything. 

Harry noticed at once that the town square seemed to be right in the middle of a gigantic path, which circled around a large patch of grass and the magnificent oak tree. A ways ahead of him, he saw a huge group of marble buildings gleaming in the bright sunlight. 

"What is that, Hermione?" he asked, pointing toward the massive buildings. 

Hermione turned and looked in the direction in which he was pointing. "The American Ministry of Magic," she said, "but look at this!" she grabbed his hand and Ron's and pulled them around the oak. Down the other side of the path, quite a ways, and atop a large hill, sat a glorious castle, not as large as Hogwarts, but it was close. 

"Is that the Salem Academy?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded. 

"This place is amazing," breathed Ron. 

"It's famous!" sighed Hermione, "and we have to see all of it!" 

She dropped her best friends' hands and strode over too the nearest store, _Hecate's Attic._ Harry reached in his robes and pulled out a bag of wizard gold, which somehow now felt like it wouldn't be nearly enough. 

"Is there a Gringotts around here?" he asked Ron. Ron shrugged and colored slightly. "We can ask." 

"Hermione! Wait, I want to go to Gringotts first and get some money sent from my bank account," Harry called, turning to look for someone to ask. He didn't have to look that far: Next to him stood three adults. 

"Where do you buy these plane tickets again?" asked a sandy-haired young man. 

"Ralph! I told you a hundred times: A Muggle travel agent! You're the Muggle Studies Professor, you should know this. Disapparate out of here and go wow the Muggles with your extensive knowledge of their world!" snapped an irritated man. 

Ralph rolled his eyes and with a slight pop was gone. The man now turned to a pretty woman standing next to him. 

"Robes, she needs black ones, Joe," the lady said. 

"I know that, Mia, of course she needs black ones. I'll get the robes, you buy the owl." 

Mia put her hands on her hips. "I'll get the robes, Joe, you get the owl. You don't even know her size!" 

Joe glared at her. "I want to get the robes - I don't need to know her size - I happen to be good at buying women's clothing dear," he said, a smirk playing on his face. "I've bought you robes before." 

The lady laughed. "And you've never gotten my size right. We've been married three years and you can't even buy me the right size robes. How will you buy Adrienne robes that fit?" she asked. 

"Mia, Mia, Mia... come now, amuse me. This isn't that much of a sacrifice; I want to buy the girl's robes. You still owe me, you know, for not taking my name when we married." 

Mia threw up her hands. "That's because having two Professor Glenns would be far too confusing. Fine, have it your way, but I'll laugh so hard when they don't fit her," Mia said, rolling her eyes. She turned on her heel and stomped off. 

"Love you too, dear," her husband called. 

Mia stopped and turned around, smiling, "How come I had to marry someone whose favorite pastime is instigating fights?" Joe laughed. "I don't know, I didn't make you do it." 

Mia smiled and started again down the street. Joe shook his head and turned around, facing Harry and Ron. 

"Sir," began Harry, "would you mind telling us where Gringotts is?" 

Joe pointed down the street towards the Ministry. "Down by the British Embassy, kid," and with that, he walked into _Hecate's Attic_, not at all noticing the scar on Harry's forehead. 

_* * * * *_

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Adrienne, Happy Birthday to you!" sang all the professors as Adrienne blew out the fifteen candles on her fourth ever birthday cake. Adrienne smiled as Professor Glenn handed her a large piece of chocolate cake. Adrienne looked up and down the table; her professors smiled at her, but something about their smiles seemed strained. 

"Something the matter?" asked Adrienne, mid-bite. All the professors shot hurried glances at the Headmistress. 

"We're just worried about you, Adrienne, that's all," she said. Everyone nodded. 

Adrienne looked at her, confused. "Why?" she asked. 

Professor Bell tilted her head. "Your nightmare last night, of course, Adrienne." Adrienne dropped her fork. "I didn't have a nightmare," she said incredulously, "I would have remembered that." 

"But you did, Adrienne," said Professor Glenn, "Your screams woke the entire castle." 

Adrienne snorted and rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Professor." 

Professor Glenn raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything. 

"Well Adri, it is your birthday and you've already blown out your candles and had your cake, so what about opening the presents now?" asked Professor Hartel, setting a large package on the table. 

Adrienne blushed. "You guys didn't have to do that." 

"We know," said Professor Bell, "Open it." 

Adrienne smiled and reached for the large box decorated in maroon wrapping and a gold ribbon. She slowly opened it and lifted out the tissue paper. Inside were seven black robes. Adrienne held one up, confused. 

"I don't get it," she said. "My robes are supposed to be green." 

A couple professors chuckled. 

"Is it the right size, Adri?" pressed Professor Glenn. 

Adrienne looked at the tag. "Yep." 

"I told you Mia! I told you! Looks like you owe someone an apology!" he exclaimed, smiling smugly. 

Mia shrugged. "So I was wrong," she muttered. 

Professor Sloan slid a large gift bag onto the table. "Next!" she said. 

Adrienne reached for it and slipped her hand inside. She pulled out a large cage holding a beautiful snowy owl. 

"She's beautiful!" Adrienne exclaimed, reaching her fingers into the cage to stroke the sleeping owl. 

"And we expect you to make good use of her too!" said Professor Bentley, the charms instructor. 

"I - I - I don't get it," said Adrienne again. The smiles on the faces around her grew larger. 

"Last present, Adrienne," said Professor Hartel as she handed her an envelope. Adrienne reached across the table, her fingers trembling. She opened it and pulled out a slip of paper. 

"It's a plane ticket," she said, confused. 

"For England," piped up Professor Ralph Mondel. 

"London, England," clarified Professor Sloan. 

Adrienne looked at it closely. "But why do I need one?" she asked quietly. 

"How else are you supposed to get to King's Cross to catch the Hogwarts' Express?" replied Professor Glenn, grinning from ear to ear. 


	4. The Necklace

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 4: The Necklace**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

It was August 30th and Adrienne sat quietly in the empty teachers' lounge. She looked out over the beautiful Salem grounds, which during the last four years had become the closest thing she had to a real home. The last remnants of the day were fading rapidly into the west, and darkness was setting not only in the heavens but also in Adrienne's heart. Adrienne stood up and pressed her hands on the windowpane, watching her last day at Salem slipping behind the forest. Adrienne closed her eyes: She was leaving for real. The seriousness of what she would do tomorrow when she stepped onto British Airways Flight 439 had finally set in. Adrienne opened her eyes and wiped away the tears beginning to streak down her cheeks. 

She was excited, a little, but mostly scared. She had grown quite attached to Salem. Adrienne looked around the teachers' lounge. This was the place she had always gone to with her problems, whether they were social, school, personal, or her latest mishap. She stared at the chairs; each had their own story. 

The large red one was Professor Bell's favorite. It was the chair she would sit it and quietly tell Adrienne stories or teach her how to knit. 

Then there was the old rickety wooden stool that Professor Bell had always wanted to throw into the fire, but Professor Mondel wouldn't let her. That was the stool he would always sit in when explaining some new martial arts concept to her, which always seemed to consist of completely impossible techniques. 

Most importantly, there was the old green couch on which Professors Glenn and Hartel would sit and bicker in a very cute and affectionate sort of way. 

They were the two people Adrienne looked up to the most; they were what she refereed to as her "parents." Professor Glenn had been the one to teach her how to dance. Professor Glenn was the one who had comforted her after her first real boyfriend had broken up with her last year. Professor Hartel had taught her how to wear make-up, how to flirt, and when you should slap a guy or just glare maliciously at him. Professor Hartel was the one who would spend summer nights in Adrienne's empty dormitory so the could stay up late doing each other's hair and giggling over really stupid things. Tears were flowing down Adrienne's face freely now. 

"Why did I do this?" she asked herself as she left the teachers' lounge and started walking aimlessly through the castle, saying her good-byes. 

"Hey cutie," called Professor Glenn as Adrienne walked past the cafeteria doors. 

Adrienne stopped and looked at him, hoping it wasn't too obvious she had been crying. He and Professor Hartel walked out of the doorway, closing the doors behind them. 

"Something the matter?" asked Mia. 

Adrienne shrugged her shoulders and mumbled something incomprehensible.

"English, Adrienne, what do we look like, mind readers?" asked Joe, placing his hands on her shoulders. 

Adrienne looked up into his eyes. "I'm scared," she said meekly. 

"Of what dear?" asked Mia, putting her arm around her husband. 

"I changed my mind. I don't want to go anymore. Please tell me I have to stay," pleaded Adrienne. 

Mia smiled sadly. "It's hard now Adrienne, but once you get there and get adjusted, you'll love it," said Mia gently. 

Adrienne shook her head. "I really don't want to go," she said, tears again rolling down her cheeks. 

Joe brushed them away. "Then why did you ask to leave?" he asked, hoping that this time her answer would be more straightforward than the vague ones he had received in the past. 

"Because I have to go," whispered Adrienne, crying harder now. 

"Don't cry, Adrienne," he said, not even about to touch this "have to" subject which Adrienne had been on about for the past month. 

"I have a bad felling. I want to stay here, with you guys," Adrienne whispered. 

Mia stepped forward, pushing her husband aside. "Adrienne, we'll miss you too, but you know what, Adrienne? You and I both know you 'have' to go to Hogwarts." 

Adrienne's eyes-widened. "How?" she asked. 

Mia smiled again. "Adrienne, you're practically my daughter, which means I'm practically your mother, and mothers know things. I don't know what's going to happen or why what will happen will, but your future has something to do with you going to Hogwarts, and we both know that. What ever happens, don't be afraid. 

"Remember, Adrienne, focus. Your mishaps are from lack of focus and only you can change that. Remember that you'll be coming here, you'll be coming home to Salem at Christmas and after second term. Your dormitory will be ready and waiting and so will we to hear all your stories. Don't be afraid, Adrienne. I believe in you. Joe believes in you. Everyone here believes in you. Now, you need to," Mia stopped speaking, she was trying desperately not to cry. 

Joe pulled something out of his pocket. "We got you something," he said, handing her a box. 

Adrienne took it, her hands shaking slightly. Inside was a small golden triangle on a chain. 

"Thank you, its beautiful," she murmured, holding it up to the light. "It's a triangle because triangles are strong shapes, to remind you to stay strong, no matter what," said Joe. 

Adrienne stared at it, again ready to burst into tears, but with great effort, she held them back. 

"Let me help you put it on," said Joe, taking the necklace and reaching around her neck to clasp it. "Now we'll always be with you," said Mia quietly. 

Adrienne smiled. "I know," she whispered. 

All of a sudden, Joe's face changed to a serious expression. "Before I forget, rules," he said. 

Adrienne raised an eyebrow. "Rules?" she asked. 

"Rules," confirmed Mia, a serious expression replacing her smile also. 

"Rule 1," started Joe, "Hogwarts isn't Salem so don't run around like you own the place." 

"Rule 2," added Mia, "No interrupting their staff meetings and stay out of their teachers' lounge." 

"Rule 3: No 'helping' things magically, i.e., don't try to speed up a potion, that only blows things up; no trying to help the elves cook faster, you'll only end up with one hundred eighty-year old elves." 

"Rule 4: Focus on everything you do, whether it's for school or not, that way you'll have less mishaps: Think before you act." 

"Rule 5: Seek help immediately if you do pull a little stunt: No hypothetically speaking stuff to try and worm your way out of things." 

"Rule 6: No starting protest OR riots." 

"Rule 7: No kissing." 

Adrienne laughed. 

Joe raised his eyebrows and made a face. "I'm serious, kid." 

Mia shook her head, laughing, "You can tell he's attached to you, Adri, that's exactly what all dads tell their daughters at your age. That's what my dad told me every year before I left for school. But mind you, what teenage girl listens to her dad?" 

Joe glared at Mia. "I'm not your dad, so you'll listen to me, right, Adrienne?" 

"How about if I find myself romantically involved I inform you about it," she said, smiling. 

Joe's face darkened: He didn't seem to be particularly keen on this idea. "No boys are decent at your age anyway, Adrienne." 

"Ok, moving on," interrupted Mia, "Rule 8: Write as much as possible and tell us everything." 

"And Rule 9: Have fun," finished Joe. 

Adrienne smiled at them. "Thanks, and I'll try real hard not to blow anything up," she said, all her insecurities gone, for now. 

"No problem," replied Mia. 

Joe didn't respond, this comment had reminded him of something. "Since we're on the subject of blowing up potions laboratories. There's this teacher at Hogwarts, I met him at a potions convention. His name is Snape; I can't stand him. If you end up having any mishaps," Adrienne raised her eyebrows at the word if. "Ok, when you have a mishap, if you have any control whatsoever, transfigure him into a brick wall, charm him to fly vertically, age him, or blow up his classroom. At least try and make your mishaps productive. Ouch!" Joe winced and grabbed his arm where his wife had hit him. 

"No, don't listen to him Adrienne: No torturing teachers," said Mia sharply, glaring at her husband. 

"What happens if I forget," said Adrienne with an evil smile. 

Mia glared at her. "I'll ground you!" 

"You're not my mother, Professor, you can't," said Adrienne, a smile playing on her face. 

"That, my dear Adrienne, can be fixed with the swish of a quill." 


	5. British Airways Flight 439

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 5: British Airways Flight 439**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

"I can't find my bag!" exclaimed Ron, tossing pillows around the room as he searched for his carry-on bag. 

"Where did you have it last, Ron?" asked Hermione, calmly walking behind him, picking up all the things he was knocking over in his search. 

"I don't know, Hermione!" he yelled exasperated, dropping for the fourth time to his hands and knees to search under the beds. 

"What about the cupboard?" Harry asked as he stepped on a chair to check the upper shelf of the cupboard. "No, only spiders," he muttered. 

"Someone stole it!" Ron angrily declared, falling backwards onto an unmade bed. 

"No one stole your bag, Ron!" snapped Hermione, dropping all the recently picked-up pillows onto him, "You just misplaced it." 

"I didn't misplace it, someone took it!" he exclaimed, throwing a pillow at Hermione, who with reflexes neither of the boys knew she had, ducked out of its way. 

"Honestly, Ron, if I find it -" she began, pulling open a dresser drawer. She stood up slowly, a bundle of cloth in her hand that looked remarkably like...

"My bag!" Ron jumped up, grabbed the blue bag from Hermione, and rushed over to his bedside table to start shoving in what was left of his unpacked belongings. Harry shook his head and checked his bedside table one more time to make sure he hadn't left anything. 

"Your parents are meeting us at King's Cross, right Ron?" asked Harry as he shut the final drawer. 

"Yep, with our trunks," replied Ron, closing his bag. 

Hermione sat down next to him. "I wonder what our books are this year? I still can't believe I didn't even get to see my letter. I didn't know Hedwig was going to intercept them from the school owls and bring them straight to Mrs. Weasley," Hermione muttered, disappointed. 

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I told her to do that - it was easier - what are you complaining about anyway? Hedwig brought you the part about you being made Prefect and your badge right away!" 

"I just can't believe I was made a Prefect. Honestly," she said, shaking her head amazed. 

In an instant Ron had swung a pillow at her with all his might, sending her flying off the bed with a yelp. 

"I can't believe I was made a Prefect. Honestly!" mimicked Ron in a high voice. "Of course you were made a prefect, Hermione!" 

Hermione stood up, the pillow in her hand, glaring at him. "I wasn't expecting it - what with all the rules we've broken," she said, her eyes glinting menacingly. 

Ron smirked. "Come off it, there has to be some law somewhere that says all know-it-alls, teachers' pets, and none trouble-makers have to be made Prefects, no questions asked." 

"None trouble-making, I'll give you none trouble-making," Hermione spat, and with that she had jumped onto the bed and started swinging her pillow at Ron with all her might. 

Ron fell backwards, covering his face with one hand and swinging the nearest pillow up at her in defense. Harry laughed, grabbed a pillow, and joined the fight. 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne walked nervously through the crowded airport. She felt very odd wearing Muggle clothing instead of her usual green robes. She wore black slacks and a purple button-down shirt. She stole a glance at Professor Glenn, who was wearing khakis and some god-awful olive-green shirt. 

"You know what, Professor?" she said as she and Professors Glenn, Hartel, and Bell made there way to Gate 17, "You really have no fashion sense whatsoever." 

Professor Glenn looked down at her, his mouth open in mock indignation. "I'm the one who bought you those stunning robes, Adrienne," he said, as if this proved his expert fashion knowledge. 

Adrienne rolled her eyes. "They're _black _and in the normal style that schools require. That didn't take fashion sense but mere hand-eye coordination to make sure you grabbed the right size," Adrienne replied in exasperation. 

Professor Hartel shot a smile at Adrienne and laughed, but quickly stopped when Joe glared at her. 

"You're taking her side over your husband's?" he asked in astonishment. 

"Well, dear, you do look like something else. That isn't your color." 

Joe narrowed his eyes and puffed out his chest, "I thought it was very becoming." 

"Yeah, if you want to look like a giant pickle with legs," muttered Adrienne, running ahead to avoid the shove Joe had tried to give her.

*** * * * * **

"Gate 17, Hermione," said Mrs. Granger as the three teenagers and two adults stopped under the yellow and black terminal sign indicating their gate. 

The five claimed plastic chairs by a window and watched silently as a group of men, clad in blue, prepped their plane. Harry stretched out in his chair: It was going to be a long night and they'd be arriving in London at eight in the morning.

"We're going to be a little rushed aren't we, Hermione?" he asked. 

Hermione shrugged. "No, mum and Mrs. Weasley have it all planned out. We meet them at King's Cross at ten, we shove our suitcases and bags in our trunks, and then board the train." 

Harry turned and looked at her. "What if the plane's late?" he asked, silently praying this wouldn't be a miss-the-train year like three years ago. 

Hermione stole a quick glance at her father, who was deep in conversation with his wife. "It'll give my dad an excuse to speed; it's not like he ever waits for one though," she whispered disapprovingly. 

Harry laughed. From knowing Hermione for four years he had assumed her parents would have been sticklers for rules like she was, but they weren't. Mr. Granger had to be the most easy-going guy he had ever met: letting them wander around the Gallows alone, only telling them to let him know when they returned, never giving them a curfew. And unlike Uncle Vernon, who always drove at least fifteen miles under the speed limit, Mr. Granger gave a new meaning to the phrase "pedal to the metal." 

Harry smirked remembering their ride through London to the airport. They had passed one of those signs on the side of the road that tell you your speed and when the speed flashed up, Mrs. Granger said calmly, "Richard dear, you're going twice the speed limit." 

"Am I?" was all Mr. Granger said, stepping on the accelerator more. Mrs. Granger leaned over to get a better view of the speedometer. "I didn't mean for you to speed up," she said quite patiently. 

"I know; I meant to speed up, Liz dear." 

Harry shook his head. Hermione's parents definitely had been a surprise. He looked at his watch, wondering when they were going to start boarding. He was just about to ask Ron if on the plane he'd want to play a game of travel chess when he heard it: 

"I still don't get why I couldn't have used Floo powder. That thing out there doesn't look all that reliable," came a girl's voice Harry had never heard before. Harry turned around. Sitting behind him was a girl and three adults. 

"Because, Adrienne, Floo powder doesn't work across such distances," remarked the man sitting next to her, "And you can't Apparate because you haven't passed your exam, so you have to take the plane." 

The girl crossed her arms. "You think I'm an accident waiting to happen? That pile of junk out there is an accident waiting to happen!" she exclaimed. "I could have used a port-key you know!" 

Hermione and Ron had turned around too to see who was speaking. 

Now the younger of the two women spoke, "We didn't get the paperwork for an International port-key filled out in time, Adrienne." 

Adrienne sighed and turned to get a better look at the plane. Harry's eyes widened in astonishment as he finally got a good look at her. He gasped and tuned around in his chair. 

"What is it?" asked Ron. 

Harry shook his head slowly. "That's the girl from my dream." 

"No way," said Ron, turning around to look at Adrienne again, "It's got to be just a coincidence, Harry." 

"No, that's her!" he hissed. 

Hermione turned around too. "You know, she looks an awful lot like you, except for she doesn't have a scar or glasses," Hermione remarked thoughtfully. 

"Yeah, and the fact that she's a girl, and a real pretty one at that," said Ron, smiling dumbly. 

"Are you sure, Harry?" Hermione asked, but before Harry could answer, a tall blond in a blue uniform had called out: "We are ready to begin boarding for British Airways Flight 439 to London, England. At this time we ask that all first-class passengers . . ." 

"That's us," said Mrs. Granger, standing up. 

" . . . families with young children, and children traveling alone to begin boarding." 

"That's you Adrienne," said Professor Bell, standing up and handing Adrienne her bag. Adrienne's smile faded, and she too stood up, very reluctantly though. 

"Don't cry on us, Adri," said Joe, scooping her into a big hug, "Don't cry." 

Adrienne sniffed and nodded.

"We'll apparate to the airport tomorrow in time to pick you up and take you to King's Cross, that way you don't have to navigate London alone," said Mia, kissing Adrienne on the cheek. 

"It's only the night alone on the plane," said Professor Bell, holding her arms out to receive her hug. 

"This is only a practice good-bye, Adri," added Joe, brushing away her tear. 

"Here's your ticket." 

Adrienne nodded and took the ticket from Professor Bell. "Tomorrow in London," Adrienne said meekly, more to reassure herself than anything else. 

"Tomorrow in London," confirmed Professor Hartel quietly. 

Adrienne took a deep breath and pursed her lips. "Good night then," Adrienne said rather bravely. She turned on her heel and strode over to the gate, glaring at the plane through the window. 

"This had better work," she mumbled, casting one last very skeptical look at the plane as she handed the flight attendant her ticket. 

"First class, seat 7B," said the blonde in what Adrienne thought was an altogether much too cheery tone of voice. 


	6. The Girl from Salem

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 6: The Girl from Salem**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Adrienne had no problem finding her row and, to her delight, found it to be completely empty. She walked past her seat, 7B, and settled into the one next to the window, placing her bag under the seat and directing her attention to all the Muggles filing past her. In no time the same cheery blonde was instructing them on how to fasten their seat belts and reminding them that their chair cushions could be used as floatation devices. Adrienne's eyes flashed to the rock-hard empty chair next to her. 

"Right, that's it," she muttered sardonically. 

She leaned back in her chair, looked out the window, and wondered exactly how the plane was going to get off the ground, preferring to think about this instead of her other pressing question: How on Earth was it actually going to stay up in the air. 

*** * * * ***

Meanwhile, two rows back, Harry Potter was straining in his chair to get another look at Adrienne. Hermione popped a stick of cinnamon gum in her mouth and handed a piece to Harry. 

"Ron doesn't seem as nervous this time around," she whispered. 

Harry suppressed a laugh. "That's because he's a little occupied," he replied. 

This was true. Ron had discovered that if he pressed his left cheek to the window and squinted just so, he could see the profile of the girl looking out the window two seats ahead of him. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. 

"Do you think he'll find his tongue this year? He couldn't even talk to Fleur last year. How does he think he'll be able to get up the courage in one night before this Adrienne girl disappears from his life forever?" whispered Harry. 

Hermione cast a sidelong glance at Ron and then turned back to Harry. "You know, obviously she's a witch, and she's about our age. What do you think the chances are that she's going to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked. 

Harry shook his head. "Then why haven't we seen her before?" he questioned. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "She's probably a transfer from Salem," she said. 

Ron's head whipped around. "A transfer? You mean she's going to our school?" he asked, a very serene smile engulfing his face. "I can't wait till we get to Hogwarts!" 

With this, Ron replastered his face to the window. 

Harry leaned as far back in his chair as he could and shut his eyes. He didn't share Ron's enthusiasm. Sure he wanted to go back to Hogwarts, but returning also meant confronting last year's events. Harry shook his head. This trip had been exactly what he needed: It had taken his mind off dwelling on the fact that Cedric Diggory had died because of him. 

"Harry, what are you thinking?" asked Hermione, gently tapping his shoulder. 

Harry opened his eyes and looked at her. Hermione looked much different than she had four years ago he realized. Her face, which had once looked so young and angelic, had matured into that of a gorgeous young woman, and her smile was stunning now that she had shrunk her teeth. Her hair was definitely not as bushy anymore, but was laced with graceful ringlets. Harry smiled. 

"What?" asked Hermione confused. 

"You just look so different from when we were first years, that's all," commented Harry. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I should hope I still don't look like I'm eleven! And no changing the subject." 

"I was just thinking ... about things," he said, looking down. 

Hermione smiled an encouraging smile and patted his hand. "It wasn't your fault Harry. It wasn't your fault. You can't change it now, so don't dwell on the past." 

"I have a bad felling though, Hermione, a really, really bad feeling," he whispered, shaking his head. 

Hermione just squeezed his hand, not wanting to admit that at that very moment, she had a very bad feeling too. 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne opened her eyes and looked out the window, smiling from ear to ear, congratulating herself on not having a nightmare for the first time in years. However, what Adrienne didn't know was that she had had one, and the reason she probably didn't remember it was that sometimes the mind blocks out traumatic events; and in her latest dream, the person tied to the gravestone hadn't been the boy, but it had been her. Adrienne watched contently for a moment as the sun reflected off the beautiful ocean, then she looked at her watch, grabbed her bag, stood up, and walked towards the lavatory, passing Row 9 where a curly haired girl had her head on the shoulder of a boy whose face was hidden behind a mop of black hair. 

"How cute," she whispered. 

* * * * *

Adrienne ran up through the air-bridge and burst out of the gate, searching frantically for her professors. 

"Adrienne!" 

Adrienne turned and there, to the right, stood Mia and Joe, who was carrying her owl, Hecate, in a cage. 

"Ok, so it worked! Professor, let me guess, your wife picked out that ensemble!" laughed Adrienne. 

Joe glared at her. He was wearing a maroon shirt and khaki shorts. "I don't like it," he mumbled. 

"You just don't want to admit Professor Hartel can dress you better than you can yourself," Adrienne exclaimed through giggles. 

"Sounds like your flight went well, Adrienne," said Mia, hastily changing the subject as they walked towards the luggage area to retrieve her trunk, Joe stomping on ahead of them. 

Adrienne shrugged. "I slept the entire time. But I guess you're right: I didn't die, so it wasn't that bad." 

"Of course not dear. Look at Joe!" 

Adrienne looked around for her potions master, and to her amazement, he was walking on the conveyer-belt towards her trunk, yelling at it to stay still. 

"Now there's something you don't see everyday," said Mrs. Granger as she handed a suitcase to her husband, who looked like he'd rather be on the conveyer-belt with the yelling man than just standing on solid ground handing suitcases to the three kids behind him. 

*** * * * ***

"Oh my goodness, dear, I've missed you so much!" came Mrs. Weasley's voice over the chatter of the crowd in King's Cross Station. Mrs. Weasley quickly navigated her way across the thick crowd and pulled her son into a tight hug. 

"How was your trip?" she asked, kissing Ron on the cheek. 

"Mum!" he groaned, trying to wipe off the lipstick stains she had left, "you're embarrassing me!" 

Mrs. Weasley ignored this and kissed him again. "The house has been so different without you, Ron!" she said, tears welling in her eyes. 

"And Harry!" she said, enveloping him in a suffocating hug. "How are you getting along?" she asked, worry lines creasing her face. 

"Better," he replied, smiling, "Thanks for getting our school things from Diagon Alley for us." 

Mrs. Wesley waived an impatient hand. "It was nothing dear, my pleasure. And here's Hermione! It was so good of you, sweetie, to invite them! My goodness, you've grown over the summer. The boy's will be chasing you this year, dear." 

Hermione blushed, not exactly knowing what to say. 

"Mum! The train leaves in twenty!" came Ginny's familiar voice across the crowd. 

Fred and George had stacked Ron's, Hermione's, and Harry's trunks atop of each other, and now Ginny was standing atop them, waving frantically over passing heads. 

"Ginny! You get down from there right now!" yelled Mrs. Weasley, rushing over to her now six-foot taller daughter. 

*** * * * * **

It started to rain just as Adrienne, Joe, and Mia climbed out of the cab in front of King's Cross. Joe hoisted her trunk into the air and the three ran across the street and into the crowded and noisy station. Adrienne hadn't been in a train station either and now, as she followed Joe and Mia, nervousness was settling into her stomach. All around her people stood with their packages and knapsacks, chatting quickly, often in a foreign language. A girl atop a pile of trunks attracted her attention; Adrienne turned her head, wide eyed, and consequently ran headlong into Professor Glenn, who had stopped in front of the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. 

"Ouch! Adrienne, forget to turn your eyes on this morning?" 

Adrienne pushed her way between her two teachers, deciding to ignore Joe's comment. "Why are we stopped here?" she asked, staring blindly at the barrier. 

"It's like the entrance to the Gallows, you just walk right through," whispered Mia. 

"In front of all the Muggles?" Adrienne asked, raising her eyebrows. 

"Just try and be discreet, Adri," whispered Joe, giving her a slight nudge forward with the trunk. 

Adrienne shrugged her shoulders and walked towards the divider. In a second, she was on another platform, and in front of her was a large scarlet steam engine. 

"Keep walking Adri; you can't stop right in front of the entrance, ya know," said Mia as she appeared behind her. 

Adrienne stepped to the side. All around her kids in black robes and Muggle clothing were wandering around, some kissing parents and some kissing each other. The air was full of chatter and the hoot of owls. 

"Well, kid, this is it," said Joe, setting down her trunk. Mia set the cage atop it. 

Adrienne turned around and looked up at her professors, forcing back the flood of tears that were trying so hard to escape. 

"This is it," Adrienne said, smiling weakly. 

"Only one semester and then we'll have the entire winter vacation together, and you can tell us every wonderful thing that happened," said Mia, who was having a harder time trying not to cry than Adrienne. 

"Ok, kid?" asked Joe, pulling Adrienne into a strong embrace. 

"I think," she replied. 

"We believe in you, Adri. Remember though, focus on what you're doing and you can do anything. I mean it. Just don't go flipping your wand about absentmindedly," said Mia, wiping away tears. 

"And you better make your house Quidditch team," added Joe. 

"And Adrienne, follow your heart, you have a good one in you; it won't lead you wrong, trust yourself," said Mia. 

"And remember what I said about Snape." 

"No, forget that part," said Mia sharply. 

The train's whistle sounded and students started piling onto the train. 

"You have to go now," said Joe, pulling out his wand and enchanting her trunk to make it feather-light. Adrienne nodded, reached up, and embraced him. 

"I'll miss you guys." She let go and hugged Mia. 

"We'll miss you too honey." 

Adrienne smiled, picked up her trunk, and walked towards the train, not looking back because she knew she'd cry. She walked towards the back and chose an empty compartment. She stowed her trunk and then sat down next to the window to wave at Mia and Joe, but they had already disapparated. Adrienne wiped a tear from her eye. 

"This is it," she said, standing up. 

"If you don't mind my asking, what's it?" asked a girl behind her. 

Adrienne turned around: The curly-haired girl from the plane was standing in the doorway, struggling to hold her trunk. 

"You mind if we sit in here with you?" she asked. 

"No," said Adrienne, moving into the corner of the compartment so the girl could come in. Two other people followed her. 

Once they put their trunks in the overhead compartment, the three turned to Adrienne. Adrienne quickly sat into her chair, her hand over her mouth. Standing right in front of her was the boy from her dreams. 

"Oh, him, yep, he's Harry Potter," said the red-head rolling his eyes. "And I'm Ron Weasley and this is Hermione Granger." 

"Am I supposed to know who Harry Potter is?" asked Adrienne quietly, clearly understanding that Ron had thought her to have gasped upon realizing she was standing face to face with _the _Harry Potter. Ron's jaw dropped. 

Adrienne laughed. "Joking," she said smiling. 

'It's just a coincidence,' she thought. 'He just looks like that kid in my dreams, there is no possible way they could be the same person.' 

Harry was telling himself roughly the same thing as he took a seat opposite from Adrienne, setting Hedwig's cage gently onto the floor. 

"We saw you on the plane coming here," said Ron, who had obviously gotten over his brief shock. 

"Oh, well, I think I saw you guys too ... sleeping," Adrienne replied. She looked at the curious faces around her and laughed. "You guys look like you're talking to an alien," she said. 

"You went to Salem?" asked Hermione. 

"Yep, I did, until now," replied Adrienne, feeling much more at ease now that she had convinced herself that she had not been dreaming of Harry Potter for four years. 

"And Salem has freed house elves?" asked Hermione, who was still a little angry at the fact that Ron and Harry had flat out refused to let her even get within one hundred yards of the Salem entrance gates. 

"Yep, they're real nice, but a little slow," said Adrienne, "and they don't take to accepting help that well." 

Adrienne giggled, remembering the sight of all the house elves walking around complaining of aches and pains and looking for their teeth while Professors Glenn and Hartel had argued over which counter-charm would be the most successful. 

"Do they like being free?" asked Hermione eagerly. 

"I dunno," replied Adrienne, turning her attention to the train window. She sat and watched the countryside fly by, wondering exactly what Hogwarts would look like. 

"So, um, what's your name again?" asked Ron, blushing slightly. 

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Adrienne Miles." 

"Adrienne's a real pretty name," said Ron, earning him very odd glances from Hermione and Harry. 

Adrienne smiled at him, trying not to laugh. "And so is Ron," she said, miraculously keeping her face straight. "So, tell me about Hogwarts. I don't know anything." 

"What exactly do you want to know?" asked Harry. 

"I have a book called Hogwarts: A History, although I am starting to doubt it's unbiased ability... " started Hermione, standing up to pull out her book from her trunk. 

"Like, do you have houses? Salem doesn't; we just are in dormitories according to grade and alphabetical order ... seven kids per room," said Adrienne. 

"No, we have four houses," started Harry, and he continued to explain everything from the house history to the sorting. 

"Interesting," commented Adrienne when Harry had finally finished. Ron dumbly nodded his agreement. 

"You have Prefects there?" Adrienne asked. 

Hermione smiled importantly. "Yes and I am one of them." 

"Great, just great, now they're making mudbloods into Prefects," came a drawling voice. 

The compartment door opened and Draco Malfoy walked into the compartment, flanked, as ever, by Crabbe and Goyle. 

"Get out, Malfoy," hissed Harry, standing up quickly, reaching for his wand. Draco smirked and looked around, his eyes falling onto Adrienne. He cocked his head, and his eyes drifted from Harry to Adrienne. 

"Is this your twin, Potter?" he asked snidely. 

"No, this is Adrienne," said Harry shortly. 

"You two look a lot alike," said Draco thoughtfully. 

Adrienne looked at Draco curiously."Yeah, we must have one of those faces," she said. 

"Ugly ones." 

Adrienne smiled, "Thanks for the comment, Malfoy, is it?" 

"Draco Malfoy, Adrienne," he spat. 

"Well, Draco Malfoy, we were having a private conversation, and I'd really appreciate it if you would kindly remove yourself from this compartment so we can finish," said Adrienne sweetly, her eyes sparkling. She had found in the past that she could often get her way if she acted charmingly. This wasn't the case with Malfoy, as he stood glaring at her, obviously not quite ready to leave yet. 

"And what if I don't want to," he drawled, casting an amused glance over his shoulder to Crabbe and Goyle, who were cracking their knuckles menacingly. Adrienne cocked her head to the right, miffed at not being able to charm this Malfoy character out of the compartment."I'll make you." 

"Hear that boys, Miss I-Want-to-Look-Like-Famous-Harry-Potter is going to make us leave," laughed Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle laughed stupidly. 

"All right, Adrienne, try and make us leave," said Draco. Adrienne just smiled; she didn't move. "I knew it: She's afraid of us." 

"I'm more afraid of flobberworms than you, at least their IQ is greater than one," said Adrienne, her voice still remarkably void of hostile emotion. 

Draco's jaw tightened. "All of you don't know who you're dealing with, you know that?" he shot, "I'm not afraid of you." 

With that Draco grabbed Adrienne by the arm just to prove she didn't intimidate him. It happened too fast for Harry to make out clearly. All he saw was Draco fly backwards into Crabbe and Goyle as Adrienne's foot met his face. 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne sat quietly in the horse-less carriage with Ron, Harry, and Hermione. The train ride had been rather uneventful after the eviction of Draco and his cronies, and now Adrienne was looking forward to dinner. The rain had slowed to a sprinkle, and the peaceful tapping on the roof had just about lulled Adrienne to sleep when the carriage halted and Ron opened the door. As Adrienne stepped out of the carriage, her mouth dropped open. Standing majestically in front of her was the largest, most splendid castle she had ever laid eyes on. Adrienne stood at the foot of Hogwarts' gargantuan stone steps, her new black robes whipping in the wind, and as she struggled to remember to breathe, something deep within her, some reasoning beyond her comprehension, told her that she was finally home. 


	7. Conversations

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 7: Conversations **  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

"Hey Adrienne!" 

"Huh?" asked Adrienne, looking around to see who had called her. 

"Do you plan on staying out there all night?" called Hermione, who was holding one of the very large oak doors open for her. 

"Oh, right!" Adrienne ran up the stairs and through the door into the vast entrance hall. 

She stopped in her tracks and looked around wide-eyed. Straight ahead was a large marble staircase that gleamed in the flickering torchlight. Large portraits were hung on the tapestry-adorned walls. Adrienne thought it looked like a picture of a Muggle museum she had seen once in Muggle Studies. 

"Adrienne!" called Harry, waving his hand in front of her. 

"What?" she asked, staring past Harry to a large doorway through which the students were filing through. 

"What's that?" she asked pointing. 

"The Great Hall," answered Hermione. 

"Where they do the sorting?" Adrienne asked, suddenly realizing that she had no idea where she was supposed to go or whom she was supposed to see regarding this sorting business. 

"Yep, but more importantly, where we eat. I'm starved!" said Ron, massaging his stomach. 

"Me too," agreed Adrienne, turning her attention back to Hermione. "So you know where I'm supposed to go then?" 

Hermione thought for a moment but before she could answer, Adrienne had begun speaking again. 

"He must be a teacher - he'll know - I'll ask him," she said and began to stride across the hall to where a tall man had just came out of a darkened hallway. Harry, Hermione, and Ron turned; their mouths fell open in horror. 

"Uh oh," said Harry as Adrienne pushed her way towards the one teacher in the entire school who wouldn't be any help. 

"She had to pick Snape," mumbled Ron, shaking his head. 

Snape looked up as Adrienne approached. She gave him a cheery smile and started speaking as soon as he was within hearing range. 

"Excuse me, Professor, I'm new here and I don't know where I'm supposed to go to be sorted," she said, hoping she came off as someone the teacher would like. 

"Why didn't you arrive on the boats like the other first years?" he asked softly. 

Adrienne raised an eyebrow. "I'm not a first year; I'm a transfer." 

Snape didn't say anything straight off, he just stared at Adrienne with a closed expression, his eyes darting several times to the opposite end of the hall where Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood, watching anxiously. 

"What did you say your name was again?" he asked. 

"Adrienne Miles, sir, form the Salem Academy of Magical Studies. . ." 

"I didn't ask for your school, I asked for your name . . . Miles is it?" 

"Yes." 

Snape raised an eyebrow as if he didn't believe her. "Go through that door on the left," he said, pointing to a closed door next to a floral tapestry. "There's a woman in there, Professor McGonagall, she'll help you." 

"Thank you Professor . . ." 

"Snape." 

"Professor Snape," she said, slowly, her smile wavering. She turned to leave. 

"And see me after the sorting; we'll need to schedule a potions placement exam for you." 

Adrienne turned around, confused. "I'm at a fifth year level, sir." 

"I doubt that idiot of a Professor, Glenn, or whatever his name is, has really prepared you to that level, Miss Miles." 

Adrienne took a deep breath, and narrowed her eyes. "I think you will find, Professor, that I am at the same level as your fifth year students." 

"I hope you won't be expecting special treatment too, Miss Miles," Snape snapped, glaring at her. 

Adrienne shook her head, amazed. "Why would I?" 

Snape just smirked, and then finally, began to speak again. "If you don't go find Professor McGonagall you'll miss the sorting; you don't want to make that a habit either, Miles." 

With that, Snape strode into the Great Hall. Adrienne stood still for a confused second, then cast an annoyed glance to the three still waiting for her and rushed over to the door Snape had indicated. 

"Don't think they got off on the right foot," said Hermione as the trio took their seats in the already full hall. 

Ron sat down, pulling an empty seat right up next to him to let everyone know he was saving it. Harry cast an amused look towards Ron, who quickly replied with, "In case she gets put in Gryffindor." 

Hermione turned away so Ron wouldn't see her laugh. 

"I hope we don't have to wait very long," said Harry, staring hungrily at the golden plate in front of him. 

"I know," moaned Hermione, "I don't think I've ever been . . ." but a hush had fallen over the hall. 

Harry looked up, Professor McGonagall was leading in the new batch of very nervous first years, and at the very end, behind two students Harry assumed must also be transfers, was a very calm and collected Adrienne. 

Adrienne looked around the Great Hall amazed. Hundreds of eyes were staring at her and the kids in line ahead of her. She began searching for the Gryffindor table; however, she found the Slytherin table first, and sitting right at the end of it was none other but a very angry looking Malfoy. Adrienne stuck out her tongue at him and then smiled sarcastically. She looked up at the ceiling, which was a blue gray color and contained no stars. She was too interested in the ceiling to realize that the Sorting Hat had began singing, and only did the students' applause at the end snap her back from trying to decide how she could bewitch the ceiling to make it do something other than mirror the sky - thinking it could make a good April Fool's joke. 

"When I call your name please step forward to be sorted," called out Professor McGonagall, unrolling a long sheaf of parchment. 

"Allen, Jacob." 

A tall blonde boy walked up to the three-legged stool upon which sat the tattered school sorting hat. He sat down and placed it on his head. Then he sat there, shaking slightly for several seconds before the hat declared his house. 

"RAVENCLAW!" the hat finally yelled. 

This process continued through... 

"Cross, Leslie"... 

"SLYTHERIN!" 

"Himple, Rezmy"... 

"HUFFLEPUFF!" 

"Mallroy, Jennifer"... 

"GRYFFINDOR!" 

...finally ending with the last first year: "Young, Tiffany" who was made a Slytherin. 

Only Tricia Leoni, Charles Gromble, and Adrienne remained. 

"Now, I'm proud to introduce our three transfers from our American sister-school, the Salem Academy of Magical Studies," said Professor McGonagall. "Just like the rest of you, they too will be sorted; however, Salem's house system is much different than ours, so I expect you all will help them to familiarize themselves with it. And now, 7th year, Tricia Leoni." 

Tricia walked forward and placed the Sorting Hat on her head; it had barely touched her when it screamed out, "RAVENCLAW." The same went for Charles Gromble. 

"And lastly, fifth year, Adrienne Miles." 

Adrienne walked forward confidently, telling herself all she had to do was let the hat decide what house she'd be put in: There was no possible way she could mess this up. Unfortunately for her, she was not aware that the Hogwarts' Sorting Hat had a habit of instigating conversion with its students. 

"Ah, another one I see?" 

Adrienne ripped the hat off her head. Professor McGonagall stared at her. 

"Is that thing supposed to talk to you?" asked Adrienne, holding the hat at arm's length as if it might bite her. The hall burst into laughter. 

"Sometimes, if it feels like it, I suppose," said McGonagall, obviously torn between amusement and impatience. 

"Oh," Adrienne muttered, embarrassed, and promptly placed the hat back on her head. It slid down, covered her eyes, and whispered again:"Ah, another one!" 

'What is that supposed to mean?' thought Adrienne, 'Another what?' 

"You don't know?" asked the hat. 

'What am I supposed to know?' 

"You don't know who you are?" 

'What kind of stupid question is that? Of course I know who I am: I'm Adrienne Lily Miles.' 

"But you're not." 

'Not what?' Adrienne spat bitterly. 

"Not Adrienne Miles." 

Adrienne rolled her eyes under the hat. 'Of course I am; who else would I be?' 

"You seriously don't know?" 

Adrienne took a deep breath. 'Know what?' she hissed aloud. 

"This makes it much more complicated." 

'Its not that hard hat, just say what house I'm supposed to be in!' 

"It isn't that easy now," whispered the hat. 

'Why not?' 

"Well, you'd make a good Slytherin, you do have a Slytherin's temper..." 

'I do not," thought Adrienne angrily. 

"Yes you do. I can see everything about you." 

'Right, so tell me something else, hat; what else don't I know that you do after sitting on my head for a minute?' 

"I know everyone thinks you to be dead." 

"THAT'S IT!" shouted Adrienne, pulling the hat off her head in disgust. "I'm not putting that crazy thing back on!" 

Professor McGonagall blinked several times: This hadn't happened before. She stole a quick glance at Dumbledore, who seemed rather amused. 

"Miss Miles, you haven't let the hat sort you yet," said McGonagall with more patience than she'd had in a while. 

"It won't! It says 'I'm not that easy,'" Adrienne spat. 

"Just give it a little more time, it will sort you." 

"If I give it some more time it'll probably deny I ever existed! Right now it's saying I'm supposed to be dead!" 

McGonagall raised her eyebrows and Dumbledore sat up bolt in his chair, staring at Adrienne rather intently. 

"I'm not putting it on again," declared Adrienne, standing up. 

"You need to be sorted into a house." 

"I'll just mingle if it's ok with you; I'll be a floater." 

"We don't have floaters, Miss Miles." 

Adrienne glared at the hat she was still holding. 

"Miss Miles, we can't eat until you're sorted," said Professor McGonagall, surveying the mutinous student faces at the tables, many staring longingly at the empty plates. Adrienne looked around; they didn't look amused anymore, but quite clearly, displeased. 

"Fine!" 

"Back again, Adrienne?" the Sorting Hat whispered. 

'Just tell me what house I'll be in.' 

"Ok. Slytherin or Gryffindor - which one - you'd do fine in both." 

'I'm losing my patience.' 

"Well, you are ill-tempered." 

'I'm not.' 

The hat ignored her. "But then there's your history." 

'I don't have a history: I'm an orphan." 

"You're special Adrienne. You know what you are capable of?" 

'Yeah, ripping you to shreds.' 

"Your temper, Adrienne; Slytherins are known for their temper, but you've got a strong heart. Yes, I see it now ... GRYFFINDOR!" 

Adrienne sighed as she flung the hat onto the stool and strode over to the chair Ron was indicating her to sit in. 

"You and the hat not very compatible?" asked Ron, grinning form ear to ear. 

Adrienne glared at him. "That's an understatement." 

Professor Dumbledore stood up and raised his hands for silence. "Welcome to Hogwarts," he glanced around the room at the ravenous students, "But I can see you all are too hungry to listen to me, so what do you say, eat first, listen later?" 

With that the empty gold plates filled with food and the Great Hall with the sound of clinking china. 

Adrienne filled her plate with Shepherd's Pie and her goblet with a strange looking orange substance that Ron told her was pumpkin juice and began eating silently, thinking about what the hat had said: "You're not Adrienne Miles ... Everyone thinks you to be dead ... Do you know what you're capable of?" 

Adrienne slammed her goblet onto the table. Hermione, Ron, and Harry stared at her. 

"Something the matter, Adrienne?" asked Hermione. 

"No," she replied shaking her head, "Nothing that you guys can help me with. 

"Why don't you try us?" suggested Harry. 

"It's too weird." 

"Weird? We've gone way past weird, we're probably up to alternate universe by now," Ron muttered. 

"Honestly, I'm fine," said Adrienne, shaking her head. 

"Ok," Hermione replied skeptically, and she turned back to her green beans. 

Adrienne looked down at her plate; for some reason she wasn't very hungry any more. 

In no time the dishes had been wiped clear and Dumbledore was again standing up. "Welcome to the start of a hopefully uneventful term." 

Several cheers rang through the hall, including those of Adrienne's new friends. 

"Just a couple of beginning of term reminders. Like always, the forbidden forest is just as its name implies: forbidden, off limits to students at all times, during all conditions and hours, no exceptions." His eyes flicked to two identical red-heads sitting several chairs down from Adrienne, who were trying very unsuccessfully to look innocent. 

"And this year the Inter-House Championship will be reinstated." 

The room erupted with cheers. 

"In addition, dueling lessons are being made a standard part of our curriculum; however, each house will also have a competitive team, which will compete during several tournaments during the year. Please look to your head of house for further information," Dumbledore paused, his smile weakening and his bright eyes dulling. 

"In light of last year's events," the hall fell deathly quiet, "there will be a curfew of all students being inside the castle before sunset and the number of Hogsmeade trips will be reduced. This is for your own safety and disobeying these rules will result in severe punishment. And now, I think, it is time for bed. Remember, classes begin tomorrow; your Prefects have your timetables this year." 

The hall filled with the scraping of chairs and the reinstated murmur of the students. Adrienne stood up slowly, having made up her mind not to go find Professor Snape. Realizing how very tired she was, she trooped after Hermione, who was scrounging up the confused first years. 

*** * * * ***

Albus Dumbledore sat quietly as he watched his students filing out of the Great Hall. 

Professor McGonagall shifted in her chair uneasily and once the hall had emptied: "This Adrienne Miles, she reminds me of someone," McGonagall whispered so that none of the other teachers would hear. 

"She reminds me of three people," said Albus, nodding. McGonagall waited for Dumbledore to continue, but he didn't. 

"Meaning?" she asked, but the arrival of a lone owl distracted Dumbledore from answering. 

"Post this late?" he murmured, taking the envelope from the owl. McGonagall leaned over in her chair to see the seal on the back of the envelope: It was the seal of the Minister of Magic. 

"What does he want?" she asked in disgust. 

Dumbledore carefully opened it and removed a letter. He adjusted his glasses and began to read. For several moments afterwards he sat there quietly. 

"Albus, what is it?" McGonagall finally asked as Dumbledore placed the letter into her outstretched hand. 

"The Golden Serpent has disappeared?" she whispered, paling, "But who?" 

Dumbledore looked at her, amazed. "There is only one person with need of it." 

"Why, it is of no use to He-Who. . . I mean… Voldemort. He couldn't possibly be capable of using it," she stuttered, shaking her head. 

"The prophecy," murmured Dumbledore, reaching across and taking the letter from McGonagall. 

"What does a prophecy made by our own resident crazy about a dead child have to do with this?" she asked, confused. 

"Everything."   


	8. The First Prediction

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 8: The First Prediction **  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

The next morning, when Adrienne awoke, it took her several minutes to remember where she was. She sat up, looking around expecting to see her familiar dormitory, but only saw maroon. 

"What is this? Professors Glenn, Hartel, what kind of conspiracy are you trying to pull here?" she called, reaching out, realizing the maroon "walls" around her were drawn drapes. She pulled back the one on her left and found herself face to face with a curious Hermione. 

Hermione raised her eyebrows and laughed. 

Adrienne smiled. "Forgot where I was." 

She let the drawings swing shut and leaned back onto her pillow. She rolled her eyes, beginning to laugh as she remembered the Welcoming Feast and her antics with the Sorting Hat. Several hours later it seemed to her to be quite funny, until she remembered why she had underwent such actions with the ornery hat. Adrienne pushed the hat's comments from her mind, telling herself if it was to be a good day she couldn't dwell on her questions. 

"Adrienne, are you still up?" called Hermione, pulling back the curtain. 

Adrienne sat up reluctantly. "I suppose it's time," she muttered, taking great care to climb out of bed without falling over. Adrienne stood up, brushed her bed-tossed hair from her eyes, and stretched. 

"When do classes start, Prefect?" asked Adrienne, reaching for the cosmetic bag on the bedside table. 

"Not for an hour and a half; you have plenty of time," answered Hermione, pulling on her robes, and glancing at Adrienne's cosmetic bag, added, "The bathroom's down the hall on the right. Just make sure you walk into the right one... it's quite an experience if you don't." 

Adrienne laughed and headed towards the door calling behind, "Now that you mention it, I like to start my days off with a good laugh, do you think the guys would mind?" 

Hermione stared at her for a second before she realized Adrienne was only joking. 

"See ya, Hermi," laughed Adrienne, shutting the door behind her. 

"Hermi?" asked Parvati, who had just dragged herself out of bed, "Hermi?" 

"Don't you even start, Parvati," hissed Hermione, throwing a pillow at her roommate, whom had burst into hysterics 

*** * * * ***

The Great Hall was packed when Adrienne walked in with Hermione, Ron, and Harry. All the students were quickly catching up on summer events, discussing this year's big Quidditch game: The International Federation of Wizards' Quidditch Championships. Colombia had taken the win with a spectacular effort from their seeker, Maricela Valencia, who to everyone's amazement had only been playing Quidditch for a whapping two months previous to the competition. 

"That sounded like quite the game, huh?" sighed Ron, pouring himself orange juice. "Too bad we had to miss it. I would have liked to see Japan play: Japan's never been in the IFW before." 

"Neither had Colombia," answered Hermione through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. Harry and Ron looked up from their plates, their jaws almost unhinged. 

"Since when do you know anything about the World Cup or let alone Quidditch?" asked Harry, forgetting that he was pouring milk into his bowl, "Oh, sorry about that!" 

Milk had spilt all over the table and was making a desperate attempt to spill over the table's edge into the nearest laps. Hermione whipped out her wand, and with a wave, it had disappeared. 

"Got a little tired of not knowing what you all were on about all the time, so I bought a couple books in the Gallows," she said a little sheepishly. 

"When? How come I didn't notice that?" asked Ron, disappointed he might have missed a Quidditch store when he had tried so hard to hit every one. 

"Probably when you two were looking at all the different team robes. I didn't find them that exciting." 

"I play Quidditch," said Adrienne, trying to break her way into the conversation. All heads turned to her. 

"You do?" 

"What position?" 

"What broom model?" finished Ron. 

"Chaser, and I have a Firebolt," replied Adrienne smugly. Of all the few things she owned, her Firebolt, now with her triangle necklace, was her most prized possession. 

"You could afford a Firebolt?" asked Hermione. "Your parents must be so rich." 

Adrienne blushed and quickly looked down. "I won it, last year at the International Underage Dueling Championship," replied Adrienne. 

"You duel?" asked Harry, intrigued. Ever since the night in the graveyard, he had become particularly interested in this aspect of magic. 

"Yep, you could say that," replied Adrienne, stealing a piece of bacon from Harry's plate. 

"You duel?" came a snide voice from behind her. 

Adrienne turned around in her chair and glared at Draco. "For your information, yes." "Right. You're not telling me you're good are you?" he asked, clearly still smarting from the broken nose she had given him the previous night. He had had it fixed by Madam Pomfrey, saying Crabbe had accidentally elbowed him, not willing to admit he had been kicked out of a train compartment by a girl, no matter how much trouble she would get into. 

"I might be," was all Adrienne said, turning back to her plate, just to find that Harry had stolen back his piece of bacon. 

"You wouldn't be able to hold your own against anyone, Miles." 

"And you think you could?" she asked dangerously. 

"I could against you," sneered Malfoy with a tone of superiority. 

Adrienne smirked, an evil smile eventually engulfing her face. "Is that a challenge, Malfoy?" 

"We'll see how good you really are when they do the tournaments. We'll see then, right Miles?" 

Adrienne turned around smiling broadly. "Right Malfoy. During the tournament." 

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle slowly sauntered away. Adrienne watched them leave and then turned back to her companions. 

"This will be priceless," she said, raising her eyes up enthusiastically to the sunny and cloudless ceiling. 

"What will?" asked Ron, reaching for the timetable Hermione had handed him. 

"The first dueling tournament," replied Adrienne. 

"I don't get it." 

Adrienne stared at Ron. "You don't think I won the premier racing broom in the world because I took last place do you?" 

*** * * * ***

Their first class was Transfiguration, which just happened to the subject Adrienne hated the most. This wasn't helped by the fact that nearly all her attempts at Transfiguration ended up as severe failures, causing evacuation of Salem three times. 

"Who's the professor, Hermi?" asked Adrienne as she followed Hermione through the crowded hallways. 

"Professor McGonagall, why?" answered Hermione as she followed Ron through the classroom door. 

"Oh, I don't quite think McGonagall thinks that highly of me, what with refusing to wear that hat and all." 

"What exactly did it tell you, Adrienne?" asked Harry as he slid into a seat in the front of the classroom. 

"Nothing important," she replied, extremely relived to see Professor McGonagall walk into the room, just as Hermione had opened her mouth, no doubt to press further into Adrienne's conversation with the Sorting Hat. McGonagall walked to the front of the room and pulled from her desk a small box. 

"These are Muggle coins," she said, passing a coin out to each person. "As a beginning of the year review, you will all transfigure them into toads," she said, setting the box onto her desk and staring around at her pupils, answering their groans with a stern face that showed she was not in a very good mood. 

"Once you finish, please bring your toad up to me and I'll exchange it for your first O.W.L. review packet." 

This time everyone groaned excepted Adrienne, who had never heard of an O.W.L. before, and Hermione, who pulled out her wand excitedly. 

Adrienne turned to her coin and pulled out her wand. Ron and Harry had already forgotten about the assignment and were grumbling about starting to review on the first day. Hermione, on the other hand, was already up at McGonagall's desk, a very firm grip on her toad. Adrienne, wondering how she could be so hungry right after eating breakfast, raised an eyebrow with her wand. 

"Wow, that's some toad," said Ron, turning, his face contorting into a confused expression. 

"Is that a toad?" asked Harry, eyeing the object in front of Adrienne skeptically. 

Adrienne cocked her head and leaned forward. "Somehow I don't think so," she muttered.

"It looks like Jell-O," remarked Harry, getting out of his seat so he could get a closer look at the green blob, which had been the result of Adrienne trying to transfigure her coin. 

"Gell-oh?" asked Ron, confused, following Harry to get a better look. 

"It's a Muggle food." 

Adrienne shook her head. "I wouldn't want to eat this." She poked it with her wand; it swayed once before knocking over sideways and splattering over the table. 

Hermione walked over to investigate. "What did you do?" she asked suspiciously. 

"She turned the toad to a Muggle food called gell-oh," replied Ron shaking his head. 

"It never made it to a toad, just to this," said Adrienne, raising her wand again. "I'll just try transfiguring it back into a coin." Again, she raised her wand. 

BANG! There were screams as green slime showered over the class. 

"Oops," muttered Adrienne, wiping green slime from her face. 

"What happened?" asked McGonagall, running over to the table, clearly not pleased. 

"It didn't work, Professor," said Adrienne, staring around the room at the slime covered students. 

"That, Miss Miles, is obvious. What did you do?" 

Adrienne shrugged an unsure shoulder, "Tried to turn my coin into a toad?" 

*** * * * * **

"My first day of lessons and I slime an entire class," muttered Adrienne as she walked out of Transfiguration. 

"Do you regularly have such success at Transfiguration?" asked Hermione, inspecting her robes to make sure Professor McGonagall hadn't missed any slime when she had magicked it away. 

"This was a good day. I'm much better at potions, though," muttered Adrienne. 

"Speaking of Potions," interrupted Harry, looking at his schedule, "want to take a wild guess at what we have next?" 

*** * * * * **

Upon arriving in the cold dungeon which served as the potions classroom, Adrienne was struck by how all the Gryffindors seemed to tense as they made their way to their seats. Adrienne walked to the very front desk and pulled out a chair, waiting for her friends to follow her; they didn't. 

"Why do you want to sit that close to Snape, Adrienne?" asked Harry, pulling out a chair at the very furthest back table. 

"Oh, I can take a hint: He's always as sunny as he was yesterday," she said, swinging her bag onto her shoulder and pushing her way towards the back of the class. She took the end seat in front of Harry and pulled out her potions text. 

"Potions is my favorite subject you guys!" she said, flipping excitedly through the book. 

"It won't be for long," whispered Harry. Professor Snape had entered the room, followed by the Slytherin fifth years. "He hates the Gryffindors, just watch." 

Professor Snape stopped in the middle of the room and began calling roll. Just as he had stopped at Harry's name his first year, he paused at Adrienne's. 

"And here she is, Miss America," he said coldly, glaring at her. "I thought I told you that you were to arrange a time for your exam last night." 

"I forg ..." 

"Don't interrupt me, Miss Miles. I don't know how they run things at Salem, but at Hogwarts you respect your professors, and that means following their directions," hissed Snape. "Well, Miss Miles, the entire point of that exam was to determine your knowledge of potions. I guess we could do that right now. How exactly, Miss Miles, do you complete an Omniscience Potion?" 

Adrienne looked at him blankly. An Omniscience Potion? She looked down for a second, racking her brains for the ingredients. 

"This is basic fourth year curriculum, surely you know it?" asked Snape, sneering. 

Adrienne took a deep breath. "An Omniscience Potion. Um. Well. First, then, hmmm," she mumbled. Adrienne sat quietly, drawing a complete blank, fully aware of all the eyes on her. 

"We're waiting Miss Miles, enlighten us!" 

"I'll enlighten you," she mumbled, rolling eyes. 

"Like I thought, your former professor didn't prepare you adequately. I don't understand how he was even allowed to graduate, let alone teach." 

Adrienne's eyes narrowed, and as she stared at Snape, anger rising in her chest, something clicked in her mind. 

"Hooplewart," she said clearly. Snape's smile quivered. "1.3 grams hooplewart mixed with a boiled ¾ cup of ganaver seed and ½ cup Essence of Lucretia mixture. Once thoroughly mixed, let cool, and then add finely ground scarab beetles. Boil until clear," she said loudly and clearly to make sure he caught every word. 

"Lucky guess, Miles," Snape growled, turning on his heel and striding to the front of the dungeon. He walked around his desk and picked up a piece of Muggle chalk, writing in large letters across the blackboard: 

ASSIGNMENT: COMPLETE QUARTER BATCH OF THE OMNISCIENCE POTION 

"Begin now, and it would be to your benefit to successfully complete this, I'm counting it as an exam." 

Harry groaned and leaned over to pull out his potions ingredients from his bag. 

*** * * * * **

Professor Dumbledore's office was dark, no torches were lit and the drapes were drawn save for a few inches left open to let in a little sun. Dumbledore sat quietly at his desk, staring at the letter he had received from Fudge. 

"The Golden Serpent?" he mused aloud, leaning back in his chair, "I don't understand, it is impossible." He stared off into space, his mind turning it over repeatedly. "But in the last 14 years the impossible has happened repeatedly," he reminded himself. 

"If only I knew how this could be." 

He stood up slowly and walked over to the locked cabinet that held his pensive, which he hadn't used since the day Harry had witnessed the Trials. Dumbledore unlocked the cabinet with his wand and withdrew the stone basin. At once silvery streaks lit up the darkened room. Dumbledore set it in the edge of his desk. He raised his arm, positioning the tip of his wand at his temple, withdrew a shiny, silvery strand, and dropped it into the pensive. At once, the shimmering fluid began spinning and swirling. Dumbledore took a deep breath before sticking his index finger into the tumultuous mixture. 

*** * * * ***

He was now standing in the corner of the staff room, watching the staff meeting in progress. His past self was sitting at the head of a long table, talking animatedly to a younger McGonagall. 

"I told you they'd end up marrying," shot Minerva, turning her attention to Flitwick. 

"We all knew that, Min," he replied, shifting uncomfortably on the pile of books on which he was perched. 

"And the wedding?" asked Sibyll Trelawney. 

Minerva scowled. "But surely you know that already, Sibyll; oh, I forgot, you don't like to parade about professing you have the gift of the Inner Eye," shot Minerva coldly. She and Sibyll Trelawney had never gotten along, and the fact that they were stepsisters didn't help one bit. 

"It's set for this July," interrupted Dumbledore. 

"Just as I thought," resounded Sibyll, smiling dreamily. 

"You didn't think that, Sibyll; just yesterday you were telling me that you were sure Lily and James would get married in March because what did you say - they are so opposite," snapped Minerva. "If you ever make a real prediction, Sibyll, I swear I'll drop over dead." 

Sibyll at first looked as if she was going to tell Minerva that she could care less if she dropped over dead but then something very strange happened: Sibyll Trelawney had paled, her eyes rolled up into her head, and she began convulsing slightly. Suddenly she stopped and slumped in her chair. 

"They cannot be separated, not even in death, for fate will draw them together. Both ancient and modern magic personified, one will begin the battle but only together can success be achieved. The one thought to be dead will be raised and marked by the symbol of strength. And only when the serpent is held ransom, will the test of wills truly begin." 

Sibyll Trelawney stopped speaking abruptly, her eyes fluttered open, and she stared bemusedly around the table at her shocked colleagues. 

Dumbledore quickly exited the memory. He once again stood silently in front of the desk in his darkened office. 

"And only when the serpent is held ransom, will the test of wills truly begin," he whispered. 


	9. International Dueling Champions

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 9: International Dueling Champions**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

The stone hallway was dark. No torches were lit and as he walked, his cloak trailing behind him, Peter Pettigrew tightened his grip on the box he was carrying. Ahead of him he could see the faint glow of light, the sign he was drawing nearer to his master's chamber. Peter pushed the door open with his foot and let himself in silently, letting the door shut behind him. The circular stone chamber was dark except for the torches on either side of the high-backed chair in the middle of the room. 

"Wormtail, do you have it?" Voldemort asked, standing from his chair. 

"Yes, yes my Lord, it is here," stuttered Wormtail, rushing forward, his arms outstretched to hand his master the box. 

"It has already been discovered missing," Voldemort whispered. 

Wormtail cringed. "As it would, my Lord, something like this is heavily guarded," he whispered, hoping his master would see that whether or not the Golden Serpent had been discovered missing, the fact remained that it was now in his hands rather than under the security of the Ministry of Magic. 

Voldemort caressed the box with his long fingers, turning it over in his hands, triumph on his face. "You know what this is, Wormtail?" he asked, looking up suddenly. 

Wormtail swallowed. "The Golden Serpent." 

"Of course it is. And now, Wormtail, now no one can stop me," Voldemort whispered, his red eyes lighting with a manic fire. 

Wormtail swallowed again, contemplating whether he should ask. "My Lord, I'm not questioning your abilities, but the Golden Serpent, My Lord? How can it be of any help to you?" 

Voldemort's eyes narrowed, causing Wormtail to step back shaking. "I expected that from you, Wormtail, I expected it. You really don't know what this is do you?" 

"I guess not," he whispered, shaking his head slowly. 

"It is the key to defeating Potter, Wormtail; he won't escape this time." 

"It's just a pendant, how will it benefit us?" 

Voldemort stared at Wormtail, contemplating, and slowly sat back into his chair. "Do you know who is at Hogwarts right now?" whispered Voldemort. Wormtail shook his head. "The very person for whom this pendant was made. The very person who will bring Potter's destruction and hand to us everything we want. You have heard of the Prophecy regarding the Potters, Wormtail, you must have?" questioned Voldemort, taking in Wormtail's confused face. 

"The only prophecy I'm aware of is that made by Professor Trelawney before Lily and James were married; I didn't know it was about them though." 

"Idiot, it has nothing to do with them, only their children." 

*** * * * * **

Luckily for Adrienne, the rest of the week was not marked by any more mishaps and by Friday, she was in her element. 

"Look at the schedule for today!" she exclaimed at the end of breakfast, when everyone was finally pulling out their schedules to see what classes they'd encounter that day. 

"DUELING!" she said, jumping up and swinging her bag onto her shoulder, "then Defense!" 

"Wonderful," muttered Ron, "Defense; you know what, I'm starting to doubt whether we'll ever have a good defense professor." 

"It would be helpful to have one who actually stayed for more than a year," added Hermione. 

"What, you guys haven't had one for more than a year, Hermi?" asked Adrienne, still standing. 

Harry couldn't help it anymore, before he could stop himself he had blurted out a question that had been nagging at him for quite some time. "Where, Adrienne, do you get Hermi from Her-my-oh-knee?" he asked. Adrienne stared at him and then turned to Hermione. 

"Sorry, I thought it was Herm-e-own, gee, really sorry," she said but then added, "But I like Hermi as a nick-name better than Herm. So to me, Hermione, you'll always be Hermi the Prefect." Adrienne nodded and walked out of the Great Hall, in hopes that she'd be able to meet the dueling master before class. Hermione stared after her with mild surprise, 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne found the new dueling classroom easily and knocked on the closed door. She watched a young lady approach through the door's window. 

"Yes?" said the petite red head. 

Adrienne stared, her mouth slightly open. "You're Jasmine Lycé aren't you?" she asked quietly. 

The red head smiled slightly. "And you're that girl from the dueling competition, Adrienne Miles, right?" 

"Yep," replied Adrienne, beaming at the fact that Jasmine Lycé remembered her. 

"Come in, come in," she said, holding the door open. 

Adrienne walked into the classroom. It was a large room without proper rows. Instead, the desks were circled around the middle of the room. 

"Like it?" asked Professor Lycé, taking in the amazed look upon Adrienne's face. 

"It's just like a dueling ring," Adrienne answered in response.

And so it was. The middle of the floor was painted with the shiny light blue paint that always covered the floor of a professional dueling ring. The ring was encompassed by a dark purple circle painted onto the ground, surrounded by the bright green circle that served as the boundary for a competition. 

"I thought it should look as real as possible," said Professor Lycé, sitting down upon her desk. 

Adrienne nodded her head in agreement. "So we're learning basic competition dueling?" she asked, stepping to the edge of the green line. 

She snapped her feet together and brought her hands, knuckles facing inward, to the sides of her hips, simultaneously raising her head a little in salute before entering the dueling ring. 

"We'll study basic competition dueling and practical dueling," replied Professor Lycé. 

Adrienne walked slowly into the middle of the ring. 

"I watched you at the competition; you're a very accomplished dueler," said Professor Lycé, standing up, saluting, and then entering the circle after Adrienne. 

"Well, I had a great teacher." 

"Yes, Mia Hartel, the first female International Dueling Champion; no wonder you are so good," said Professor Lycé, smiling her approval. Adrienne returned the smile. "She doesn't compete anymore does she?" 

"No, she's the Defense professor at Salem, but she is the Dueling coach," replied Adrienne, turning to face her professor. 

"Good for her. Well Miss Miles," said Lycé, her small eyes sparkling innocently, "What do you think? The current International Underage Dueling Champion and the International Dueling Champion alone in a dueling ring? We could have some fun before class." Adrienne grinned and reached for her wand. "That's the spirit, kid," said Professor Lycé, reaching for hers. 

Hermione, Ron, and Harry arrived at the door to the dueling classroom. Harry moved to open the door but stopped. 

"Look, they're going to duel," he whispered. Hermione and Ron pressed their faces to the window on either side of Harry to get a better view. 

"Rules, Professor?" asked Adrienne calmly, clearing her mind of all other thoughts, focusing her entire being as Professor Hartel had taught her to do before every competition. 

"How 'bout just the basic ones, you know: no killing, no illegal curses, only stunning or disarming wins." 

"Sounds like a deal." Adrienne and Lycé's eyes locked and each bowed slightly, raising their wands. 

"On three?" asked Adrienne; Professor Lycé nodded, and they both started counting: 

"ONE, TWO, THREE." 

Adrienne was quicker, with a flick or her wrist she had yelled, "Stupify," and a blinding jet of white light burst toward Lycé. She stepped out of the way, blocking it perfectly and replied with, "Petrificus Totalus." 

Flashes of light engulfed the room as the two duelers pointed, shouted, and blocked their way around the ring. 

"Wow," muttered Ron as Adrienne jumped into the air out of the way of a low shot curse. Adrienne pulled her knees up to her chest just as Professor Mondel had taught her in marital arts. She sailed over Professor Lycé, twisting in the air and landed behind her. 

"Expelliarmus," she yelled, raising her hand to catch Professor Lycé's wand as in soared through the air. Adrienne held up her opponent's wand, the indication of the end of a match, and then smiled broadly at her professor. 

"You really are good, Adrienne," said Professor Lycé, walking over to retrieve her wand. 

"So are you, Professor," said Adrienne, putting her wand back into her robes, "I think we had spectators." 

Professor Lycé glanced over to the door and motioned for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to come in. 

"Are we going to learn to do that?" asked Harry, thinking about how helpful it could prove to be as proficient in dueling as Adrienne was when Voldemort came for him again. 

"That's the goal, but Adrienne's been dueling competitively for four years now, so don't be disappointed if you don't start out with such success," said Professor Lycé, saluting herself out of the circle and walking over to her students. 

"I'm Professor Jasmine Lycé and I'll be your Dueling Professor this year," she said warmly, holding out a small hand. Hermione was the first to grab it and smiled sweetly, thinking how young Professor Lycé looked; she couldn't be much older than 20. 

"I'm Hermione Granger," she began. 

"Ah, Hermione, that's my mother's name," said Professor Lycé, "I always liked that name." 

"And I'm Ron Weasley," said Ron, taking her hand. 

"Nice to meet you, Ron." Professor Lycé turned to Harry. "And you must be Harry. My Grandfather has told me much about you. He seems to think you and Adrienne will be the captains of the Gryffindor Dueling Team." 

Harry took her hand and shook it unsurely, not quite knowing what to say: His past attempts at dueling were quite interesting events, but they hardly put him at a level to be a captain, let alone a co-captain with the likes of Adrienne. 

"Your Grandfather?" asked Harry. 

"Yes, you know, Professor Dumbledore," said Professor Lycé smiling and turning to her desk. Harry cast a quick glance at Hermione who looked just as shocked as he did to find that Professor Dumbledore had a granddaughter. 

"We didn't know he had a granddaughter," said Hermione, walking towards one of the desks. 

Professor Lycé smiled. "He has one - yours truly." 

*** * * * ***

After the excitement of learning and practicing how to salute oneself into a dueling ring and how to properly begin a duel, Harry wasn't sure Defense would be very fun. He actually wasn't looking forward to it at all and was dreading who the professor would be. Considering that since over the last four years he had had two Death Eaters and a complete fraud, he wasn't expecting that much. 

The classroom was empty when Harry reached it. He held the door open for Hermione, Adrienne, and Ron, and then traipsed in last. It was the same classroom as it had been the previous year, and he took the same seat he had sat in the day he learned about the Unforgiveable Curses. The rest of the class filed in warily, casting skeptical glances at the teacher's desk, making hushed comments on what sort of crazy they were going to have this year. The room didn't fill with the normal chatter but only a soft hiss emitted from the students, as most were straining to hear any approaching footsteps; however, none came. 

Five minutes past and still no professor had entered the room. As the clock ticked towards ten minutes, they heard the faint rustle of a cloak, and the slight click of heels. Everyone became deathly still. Ron held his breath, and then suddenly, the door burst open and inside the doorway stood a very tall woman with short, spiky-blonde hair. She walked into the room, the clicking noise belonging to the inch heels she was wearing. She stopped in the center of the room and smiled, a very wide smile that reminded Harry very much of Lockhart. 

"Welcome to 5th Year Defense against the Dark Arts. I am Lindsay Wallace, and I will be your Defense professor," she said, twirling her wand between her fingers like a baton. She jumped back to sit upon her desk, and she swung her legs much like a child. 

"Defense is an essential class, probably the most essential class you will ever take, considering the condition we have lived in since the rise of the Dark One." Harry had never heard Voldemort referred to as the Dark One before, but continued listening. 

"So last year I hear you got a treat, not many days you get taught by a convicted Death Eater, eh?" she said this as if it was her greatest desire to have been taught by Voldemort's right hand man. 

"Think of the stories you could tell about that one," she continued, now holding her wand with both hands, as if she were going to snap it in half. 

"Well, I didn't come here to teach you how to tell stories; I came here to teach you how to stay alive when something from the dark side is set on destroying you. Not a pretty thought, to know that there are very powerful wizards who have awards on your head, I imagine I'm correct, right Potter?" she asked, turning her gaze to Harry, who promptly sunk in his chair and muttered something incomprehensible. 

"Well, this year I think you will find that we will be taking a different approach to studying Defense. We will be using something the English Ministry has just recently developed to train their Aurors; it's called a Magical Simulation Bubble, or MSB. 

"These are little 'bubble worlds' where you can go head to head against any magical creature: You can practice your defensive and offensive tactics without allowing pain or repercussions from your opponents to affect you. When you are hit or a successful attack is made against you, all you will feel is a tingling feeling. This will allow us to practice defensive tactics against both the Cruciatus Curse and Imperious Curse without me being imprisoned for putting them on you. You will all be graded on how well you perform inside the bubble on the different assignments taught during the course of this year." 

All the students stared at her, obviously not too encouraged about the last part concerning the Unforgivable Curses. Harry, on the other hand, felt somewhat reassured by this bubble thing, telling himself that if he could learn how to block the Cruciatus Curse then that would be one less thing that he'd have to worry about. 

"However, before I can begin letting you use the bubble, I must first know exactly where you are in Defense curriculum. So, naturally, the only way to discover this is to give a . . ." she whipped out a stack of papers from behind her. The class groaned. "Yes, a diagnostic exam." 

*** * * * * **

Adrienne ran down the spiral staircase into the Gryffindor Common Room, holding a letter. 

"Look you guys! It's from Salem!" she tore open the letter and straightened it with a flourish. Hermione looked up from her Arthimancy homework, and Ron and Harry looked up with eager faces, glad to have some legitimate excuse to take a break from their Divination work. 

_Dear kid, _

I can't believe you've been gone almost an entire week! I don't know what to think of it - the castle is still in one piece, has to be the first time in many years. We all miss you terribly. I'm glad to hear that your first few days went fine. I told you Snape was a stick-in-the-mud; why couldn't you have slimed his class instead of McGonagall's? Oh well, there'll be plenty of time for that this year. So, Jasmine is your Dueling mistress? I'm not sure what Mia thinks of that; oh, don't get me wrong, I think she is just a little put-off. She's probably afraid you'll end up liking Jas more than you do her. Well, I don't have that much to say. Mia's off looking for Boggarts - where are you when we need you - you can find them faster than anyone. And I'm going to go try out a potion that's just been released by the Russian Potions Society, its supposed to work the same as a polyjuice potion, but longer. I'll see how it works; maybe I'll steal a piece of Mia's hair and turn into her just to scare her. Keep up all the good work; you must be doing something right since we haven't gotten a letter from good old Dumbledore saying you're being sent back. Remember, be strong, and tell us if you have any more nightmares. 

Love always,   
Professor Glenn 

"He reminds me of Professor Lupin," said Harry thoughtfully. 

"You're on pretty good terms with him?" asked Ron. 

"Yep, he's like my dad, except he's way funnier than any parent could possibly be." 

Hermione looked at Adrienne with a strange expression. "You have nightmares?" she asked, tilting her head slightly to the side. 

Adrienne quickly looked back to her letter. "Sometimes, but everyone does sometimes, its no big deal," replied Adrienne, not looking up. 

Hermione just looked at her, not saying anything, and then turned back to her Arithmancy work.   


	10. Cleaning Charms or Lack Thereof

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 10: Cleaning Charms or Lack Thereof**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

It seemed to Adrienne that one day she was begging to leave and the next she was watching the leaves change in the Forbidden Forest. Adrienne had fallen in love with Hogwarts. She loved the mystery and the excitement that always appeared at the most unexpected moments. She loved her classes and most of her teachers. Most of all, she loved the fact that she had Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Adrienne watched them eat, studying them, trying to remember everything about them so she'd be able to describe them in full color when she returned to Salem for the winter vacation. 

There was Hermione, who always sat with perfect posture, a smile always on her face, especially when talking to Harry. Adrienne laughed silently at how the two behaved. They were always smiling and teasing, sharing food and laughing, and whispering in each other's ears. 

And then there was Ron, whom Adrienne couldn't smile at without him blushing and stuttering. Adrienne thought he was cute: He was always talking to her, complementing her, and asking her questions, which Adrienne always responded to with a smile. However, she did notice that his cheery attitude seemed to change every time she talked with Harry. 

"Of course he acts funny, Adrienne, he's afraid you'll go for Harry and not him," said Hermione one October night when the two were alone in their dormitory. 

"But I don't like Harry," said Adrienne, running a cloth over her wand, wiping off the smudge marks. "I'm not attracted to him at all. Eww, no way! I could never, ever like him like that," she added as an afterthought. 

Hermione looked at her, a little surprised: Every girl she had ever known since the age of eleven had at one point been madly infatuated with him. 

"Oh come now, Adrienne, he is cute, and he's famous; you never ever once as a child opened a book about him and been overcome with a bad case of puppy love?" 

Adrienne looked up quickly. "First, have you noticed we look alike. It's like looking into a mirror, except my face is more feminine, I don't have glasses, my hair is long, and I don't have battle scars adorning my face. No one ever likes what they see in the mirror; he isn't cute. Secondly, I never heard of Harry Potter until I got to Salem, so I never had the opportunity to develop a bad case of puppy love, Hermi," said Adrienne hotly. 

Hermione didn't move for a moment, then she stood up and walked over to Adrienne's bed. "Are you Muggle-born too?" she asked. 

Adrienne stood up and walked over to the open window. "I wouldn't know, I'm an orphan," she said quietly. 

"I'm sorry, Adrienne, I didn't know." 

Adrienne turned around and smiled, although it was obvious it was forced. "Doesn't matter, they say you can't miss what you never had," she said, but Hermione didn't buy it. 

She took a deep breath. "Do you know what happened to them, Adrienne?" 

Adrienne looked straight at her, and Hermione felt as if she was looking right through her, as if she wasn't there. "My mother died giving birth to me, that's what the orphanage said. I didn't have a dad on my birth certificate, just my mom, Heather Miles." Adrienne didn't stop there. "Yep, they said my grandmother brought me to America and left me at the 5th Street Orphanage in good ol' NYC, saying I would remind her too much of her daughter, and that would be too painful." 

Hermione didn't say anything, thinking Adrienne was going to say more, but Adrienne was done talking. An awkward silence filled the room, and Adrienne turned back to the window. 

"I promised I'd help Ron with that locating charm; I'll be back later," said Hermione finally, grabbing her wand and walking out the door. 

Adrienne turned back around, for the first time in her life she didn't feel like crying after revealing she was an orphan. Somehow, the fact that her grandmother had deserted her didn't anger her anymore. Adrienne only felt confused now: "Miles," the one thing that she thought had been the only connection she had to her family, suddenly for no reason had no meaning to her at all. 

*** * * * * **

Adrienne didn't sleep well that night, nor did she have any nightmares, but she did have a dream. In her dream was a young brunette sitting outside a hospital room, holding her stomach in pain, waiting for the contraction to pass. She couldn't have been much older than fifteen. After a short while she stood up and began walking again. She took small steps down the hospital wing; they had said walking was supposed to help, but she was beginning to think all those people had been lying. The girl stopped at the end of the corridor and turned around to walk back. Two people exited a door next to her, whispering. 

"Lily, was there a reason you insisted on a Muggle hospital? This would have been a lot easier at St. Mungo's," said a black haired man, holding the pregnant woman's arm. 

"First off, you know my mother, she wouldn't hear of it. Second, I want Dr. Hatcher. I've known her for a long time and I want her, not some wizard I've never met before in my life." 

The girl listened closely, wishing someone would be there to walk with her, but her boyfriend, that blonde-haired punk, had left her, and her mother was on the verge of disowning her. 

"Lily," she whispered thoughtfully, "what a pretty name." 

And at that moment, outside of room 243 in London, England, Heather Miles finally decided on her unborn daughter's name, Adrienne Lily. 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne kicked Ron's leg slightly under their table in charms. 

"Ouch," he muttered, casting a questioning glance at her. Adrienne smiled a mischievous smile and turned her attention to Professor Flitwick, who was standing atop a mound of books. 

"At the foot of each table you will find a box filled with various dirty objects. You will be using the charms discussed yesterday to clean them. You can begin now," he said in his usual squeaky voice. Adrienne set the box onto the table. 

"This'll be easy," said Hermione, reaching for the filthy towel at the top, "I bet we can use a basic cleaning charm on most of this." 

Harry reached over for a stained Muggle coffee cup. "It may be easy, but how safe is it? You're not going to fill the classroom with soap bubbles or anything are you, Adrienne?" he laughed, ducking as Adrienne threw a grimy sock at him. 

"How many times must I tell you, I only mess up in Transfiguration and when I'm not thinking about what I'm doing. What dope messes up cleaning charms anyway?" asked Adrienne, looking into the box. 

"Wow these are dirty. Look, dishes, a rug with grease stains, I'll do that one," she said in disgust, pulling out the pale blue rug with black streaks. Adrienne set the rug, dirty side up, in her lap. "Wouldn't it be great if I could just snap my fingers," said Adrienne, snapping her fingers, "and it would just be clean again instantaneously?" 

Ron nodded his agreement, his tongue poking through his teeth in concentration as he used a scouring charm to de-rust a metal pipe. 

Adrienne flicked her wand at the rug on her lap, muttering, "limpia." However, had she been paying attention to her rug and not staring starry-eyed at Ron, she would have noticed her rug was already clean before she cast the cleaning charm. 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne followed Harry out to the Quidditch pitch, her precious Firebolt over her shoulder. 

"Chaser, eh?" asked Harry as they drew nearer to the pitch, where the rest of the Gryffindor team was standing. 

"Yep. Are you sure they're going to let me on without a tryout?" asked Adrienne, swinging her broom off her shoulder and transferring it to her left hand. 

"I already talked to Alicia. She said that if she likes how you fly at this practice, she'll give the position to you. We need to practice anyway; we can't spend all the time watching tryouts," said Harry, waving to Fred and George, who were about twenty feet in the air, holding onto their broomsticks with only their legs, their hands locked in front of them in what looked like a new version of chicken-fighting. 

"If you two don't get down here right now, we won't have any beaters, unless you can play with broken necks!" called a frustrated Alicia, standing below them, "Don't make me come get you!" 

Adrienne smiled at the twins and watched as they made their descent, landing on either side of Alicia, grinning from ear to ear. 

"You just don't want us having any fun, Alicia," whined Fred, shaking his head dejectedly. 

"Quidditch is supposed to be fun, Alicia, or did you have something else in mind to entertain me," smirked George, wrapping his arm around his girlfriend's waist. She pushed him away and turned her attention to Harry. 

"Hey, Harry, is this your chaser?" she said as Harry and Adrienne approached. 

"Always got to be the center of attention," said George sarcastically, playfully punching Harry on the arm. 

Harry cast him a patronizing look. "Alicia, this is Adrienne Miles, and Adrienne, this is our Captain, Alicia Spinnet." 

"Nice to meet you, Adrienne," said Alicia her eyes flicking toward the broomstick in Adrienne's hand, "And a Firebolt! Excellent, two unmatched brooms, that'll even up the odds even more against Slytherin." She turned around a couple times, counting the people. "Three chasers, two crazies . . ." 

"Hey!" interjected the twins. "a seeker, and what, we're missing our keeper! Where is he, I told him six. It's six!" Alicia said angrily. 

"Who is the keeper anyway Alicia?" asked Harry, looking around, "You haven't mentioned anyone." 

"That's because I just heard he could play today; here he is!" Everyone turned, walking out of the castle, very slowly and unsurely was Colin Creevey, minus a camera. 

"Colin, where have you been, we've been waiting," called Alicia. 

Colin broke into a run, reaching the midpoint between the castle and the group, and then tripping headlong over his robes, landing in a heap at the edge of the pitch. Fred and George groaned. 

"You have to be kidding us, right Alicia?" whispered Fred; Alicia stepped on his foot. 

"Shh. You all right Colin?" she said, walking toward the embarrassed fourth year. 

"Yeah, yep, perfect, just fine, thanks," he mumbled, dusting off the dirt. 

"Ok then, this is our Gryffindor Quidditch team!" said Alicia, looking around. The gleam in her eyes reminded Harry of Oliver Wood, and Harry hoped that she wouldn't become as obsessed as he had been. "So, let's start practice!" 

Adrienne and Harry were first into the air. Adrienne threw back her head and let the wind pull her hair out of her scrunchie. She rose straight up, stopping a hundred feet above the ground. She hovered in mid air, waiting for Alicia to let the quaffle go. They were playing a free for all. No teams, you just tried to score for yourself, and all Harry had to do was practice looking for the golden snitch. With a whoosh, the red quaffle flew into the air. Adrienne dived, letting gravity, along with the quick acceleration of her broom, rocket her towards the ground. Katie Bell grabbed the quaffle and headed towards the goalposts closest to the castle, the only goalposts they would use that evening. 

Harry watched, wondering how Colin would hold up. Colin watched her barreling towards him and began to predict what she would do. However, he never got to test any of his predictions. Just as she prepared to throw, a blur sped past her, grabbing the quaffle, flanked hard to the right, barreled upwards, and with a quick toss, sent the quaffle soaring past Colin into the goal on the far right. Adrienne turned and flew back to Alicia at lightening speed, stopping a foot away from her. 

"So, do I make the team?" she asked, smiling smugly. 

Alicia hovered there for several seconds and then broke into a wide smile. "Of course you do, kid. We have it in the bag for sure!" she yelled, punching the air with her fist. 

Adrienne looked past Alicia to Harry, who was beaming. 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne and Hermione sat at a table in the slowly emptying common room, pouring over their Arithmancy homework. 

"I'm pretty sure this is right…" muttered Hermione, as she and Adrienne were checking a particularly tough problem that had taken them twenty minutes of collaboration (if you call Hermione doing all the work and Adrienne pretending to check it, collaboration) to finish. 

Adrienne looked at the paper closely, whispering numbers and shaking her head. "Boy, this was a tough one," Adrienne sighed, pushing the paper towards Hermione, "My brain is fried, I can't do any more, Hermi." 

Hermione reached her arms above her to stretch. Harry and Ron looked up from their Divination homework, smiling very smugly. 

"I bet you're wishing you didn't drop Divination, Hermione," said Ron with an air of superiority. "All we had to do was predict how the moon would affect the Cornish Pixie population of Eurasia in the next week." 

Harry cleared his throat. "Due to the shape of the moon over the next seven nights, the Cornish Pixie population of Eurasia will undergo a massive epidemic of Glasian Flu," he read, nodding his head like one of those male models on Muggle suit commercials, a half smile playing on his face. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You guys just made that up," she said impatiently, pulling out her Potions text. 

"What do you think the point of Divination is Hermione? It's definitely not to learn how to actually read crystal balls," said Ron. 

"Yeah, it's to learn how to broaden our imaginative abilities," said Harry with a tone of mock seriousness. 

"I hated Divination... never was good at it," sighed Adrienne, shaking her head exasperatedly. "That's why I switched to Arithmancy; I may not be any better at that, but at least the incense doesn't make me nauseous." 

"What are you good at?" Ron asked in a joking voice. 

Adrienne raised an eyebrow. "Dueling," she said matter-of-factly, turning back to her homework, "and I can fly decently... that's about it." 


	11. Hide and Seek

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

Author's Note: I did not write Hagrid's vernacular. I tried several times and I couldn't get it right, so I give up. I plead artistic license! 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 11: Hide and Seek**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

It was chilly, dull gray morning when Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Adrienne headed out to the Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Hagrid's cabin looked rather inviting in the quickly approaching winter weather, and Harry wished that they could spend the morning drinking tea instead of freezing outside. The weather was unseasonably cold, especially for Adrienne, who had never been in such a climate. 

"Doesn't it ever get warmer" she asked, rubbing her hands together and blowing on them. 

"Adrienne, it isn't even November yet, it's only going to get colder," said Hermione as they neared the familiar wooden cabin. 

Adrienne sighed. "It isn't this cold at Salem," she muttered, mentally criticizing herself for not bringing any gloves with her when she left. She had left the possessions, however few they may be, that she didn't think she would need with Professor Hartel for safe keeping. Now she wished she had researched England's climate before she departed. 

The Slytherins had arrived ahead of them and Adrienne followed Hermione's lead and dodged a kick aimed at the passing Gryffindors, her eyes catching the dragon-hide gloves in Hermione's bag. 

"Why didn't I think of that?" she asked amazed and reached into her own bag and pulled out her gloves. She slid her numb hands into them. "Perfect." 

Hagrid closed the door to his cabin and sauntered over towards his class, giving them a cheery smile under his gruff beard. 

"We all ready?" he asked as he stopped in front of the group. 

No one answered: Hagrid had told them earlier that he'd have a surprise in store for them all, and like a domino-effect, images of Blast-Ended Skrewts flooded everyone's minds. Now all the students stood very apprehensively, casting weary glances at one another. 

"No need to look so worried, I got something you might all enjoy, kind of a game," he said, his black beetle eyes twinkling with excitement. 

"Has anyone heard of a Kraybel?" 

Like always, Hermione's hand shot into the air. Everyone else remained motionless. 

"Hermione?" asked Hagrid. 

"A Kraybel is a magical animal that resembles a small house cat. They are used as Muggles use hounds to search out missing or hiding people," she said, congratulating herself on actually reading the Monster Book of Monsters. 

"Right, and I just happen to have me a Kraybel." Hagrid pulled out of one of his overlarge pockets, a small silver cat with long floppy ears and dragon-like wings. "And since their specialty is seekin out the hidden, I thought we'd give this little girl something to seek." Hagrid looked around at all the students, the majority of which still looked quite skeptical. 

"You are all to hide anywhere on the grounds besides in the Forbidden Forest and inside the castle. You will have five minutes to find your spot, and then I'll let the Kraybel loose. If she finds you, you're out. The last person to be found will receive five points to their house." Hagrid shot a glance at Malfoy, "And I'll be followin the Kraybel to make sure no one tries to hide again after being found. Ok, hide!" 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione tore off in all directions, but Adrienne stayed put, standing silently and looking at the Kraybel. She tilted her head and stared at the bundle of fur in Hagrid's arms. 

"You going to hide Miss Miles?" asked Hagrid, curiously, struggling to keep a hold of the little creature now attempting to follow the students as they left to hide. 

Adrienne smiled at the Kraybel. "Yeah, just wanted to look at it. How do you tell it to start finding things?" she asked. 

"Just let it go," replied Hagrid, not seeing what could be so intriguing about how it knew to start looking. 

"You don't help it at all? You don't point out something you see? We only get caught if the Kraybel finds us, not if _you_, Hagrid, find us?" 

"Yep, just the Kraybel. What exactly are you getting at?" asked Hagrid, narrowing his eyes slightly. 

"Just curious." Adrienne turned and walked slowly away, heading towards the Quidditch pitch. "They only look for things that are hidden," she mumbled, "If I don't hide, it won't pay any attention to me." 

Adrienne walked towards the middle of the pitch and sat down cross-legged and waited. 

*** * * * ***

Harry raised his wand once he had reached the other side of the castle. 

"Accio Firebolt," he whispered, realizing how easy the Summoning Charm had become for him since the previous year. Harry had noticed a definite increase in his magical abilities. He was struggling less and less this year. He even had surpassed Hermione in Transfiguration, beating her to finishing several assignments. It almost seemed as if the limits on his magical powers were slowly disappearing. He had once felt insecure with his wand, wondering whether he'd be capable of completing an assignment or successfully mastering a spell. Now it seemed as if he only had to worry about not looking like a know-it-all. 

Harry's Firebolt zoomed towards him, stopping in front of him, waiting for him to mount. Harry flew up into the air and started circling the grounds. Hagrid had said the Kraybel looks for hidden things; if he positioned himself out in the open, then the Kraybel would probably overlook him. Harry cast a quick glance down at Hagrid, who was just setting the Kraybel onto the ground. 

*** * * * ***

As it turned out, Harry and Adrienne had been the only ones to outsmart the Kraybel. On several occasions, the little winged-cat walked right by Adrienne, who was lying on her stomach, without doing anything. Hagrid raised an eyebrow but continued walking after the Kraybel. Eventually the Kraybel took to the air, Hagrid running underneath it, trying to keep up. Despite a near collision between a very red-faced, upside-down Harry, the little Kraybel kept flying, obviously thinking that someone on a broomstick in the open sky was not trying to hide. 

Hermione had fared the best after Harry and Adrienne. She had made her way over to the Whomping Willow, pushed the hidden knot, and then hid herself strategically next to the trunk so she wouldn't get pummeled when the button wore off. The Kraybel walked past the wild tree several times, thinking no one in their right mind would hide in there, but eventually, after she had found all the other students, the Kraybel snuck up to the tree and declared Hermione's position with a loud screeching dog-like howl. 

*** * * * ***

The four made their way to the Dueling classroom the following day, Harry still with quite a headache from spending an hour upside down; Adrienne with ant bites all over her legs from lying in the grass; Hermione with a large bruise on her left arm, a trophy from her attempt to exit her hiding place; and Ron, with a limp, the result of falling from the Quidditch stands when the Kraybel startled him. 

"Falling apart at the ripe old age of 15 are we?" asked Professor Lycé as the four traipsed through the classroom door. No one answered. Lycé smiled and motioned them to take a seat. 

"Always early you are," she began, walking behind her desk, "Well, there's no harm in that. Anyway, since you're here, perhaps you'd like to discuss the Gryffindor Dueling Team?" 

"You've decided the team?" asked Hermione, hoping dearly that she made it; dueling, like flying and Divination, was not something she could learn from a book and, thus, had not excelled as well as she did in her other courses. 

"Would you like to know who made the Primary Team?" asked Professor Lycé mysteriously. Ron leaned forward in his chair eagerly. "Well, all of you made the Primary, along with Lee Jordan, Rodney Nells, and Samantha Henderson. Seven people. You might be interested to know, Mr. Weasley, that your sister made the Secondary Team Captain. She is quite good at dueling; with a little more training she could make quite the name for herself." 

"We all made it?" said Harry, extremely happy that no one would be left out. 

"Yes, and I daresay Professor McGonagall will want to discuss practices with you all soon if you want to be prepared for the first tournament in December." 

Adrienne looked up quickly from her wand, which she had been wiping down. 

"What do you mean _McGonagall _? She's going to be our coach? How come you can't?" asked Adrienne, incredulously. 

"Miss Miles, there is only one of me, and I can't coach all the houses. As it turns out, all the Heads are quite versed in dueling and each will coach their own house," said Professor Lycé, taking off her hat and beginning to braid her hair. "Are you worried McGonagall won't be able to teach you anything you don't already know, Adrienne?" 

Adrienne shook her head. "No… I just don't think McGonagall likes me all too much… what, with sliming her classroom and all."

*** * * * ***

That evening Adrienne, Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way, along with the other members of the Primary Gryffindor team, down to the Transfiguration classroom. Professor McGonagall was there waiting for them; she had pushed back all the desks and had transfigured the floor to resemble the dueling ring in the Dueling classroom. 

"Congratulations on making the team," she said as they walked into the room, "I've heard wonderful things about all of you from Professor Lycé and I'm eager to see you in action. She said you each have your own particular strengths and weaknesses, and I hope that through these practices we'll accentuate those strengths." 

Professor McGonagall seemed to be in an awfully good mood; which she was. She stood, staring at the seven students, eager to begin a lesson where every single student would be seriously paying attention. 

"Now I haven't seen any of you duel. Today we'll just do that so I can get a feel for your abilities." She looked around the room, surveying each student, trying to decide who should go first. 

"How about you, Miss Granger, and you, Miss Miles? Why don't you two begin," she said. 

Hermione swallowed hard, not looking forward to making a fool of herself. The two saluted themselves into the ring. They bowed to each other and waited for McGonagall to signal them to start. Unfortunately for Hermione, Adrienne shot an Immobility Curse at her straight off, gluing Hermione to the ground and before Hermione could attack Adrienne or perform the countercurse, Adrienne had disarmed her. 

Lee Jordan was quite good at distracting his opponent, lowering their defenses just enough to get in his attacks. Ron seemed to manipulate his opponents like on a chessboard, tricking them into a false sense of security and then, like in chess, 'checkmate.' Sixth year, Samantha Henderson was good at blocking, even if her knowledge of attacks was quite limited. Fourth Year Rodney Wells was the opposite of Henderson, and McGonagall made a mental note to develop exercises to help him with his horrendous blocking. Hermione, except for against Adrienne, held up pretty well, using her vast knowledge of curses and hexes - no doubt gained from the previous year - to win, even if she wasn't quite that confident in the ring. 

Of them all, as expected, Harry and Adrienne stood out. McGonagall noticed that Harry seemed as if he was in complete control both mentally and physically. He couldn't be distracted, nor did he lose concentration when he missed a block. Adrienne on the other hand, seemed almost as if she wasn't even trying. She flicked her wand here and there, and on several occasions, McGonagall could have sworn that the spell shot from her wand a second before Adrienne even finished saying the incantation. 

*** * * * * **

That night Harry crawled into his bed exhausted. Just as Professor Dumbledore had told his granddaughter, Harry and Adrienne had been made co-Captains. Harry winced as he rolled over. He was quite sore from dueling with Adrienne. She had had quite a time trying to disarm him, so she decided to focus on cursing him until he tired. Harry didn't like dueling Adrienne; as a matter of fact, he hated it. Every time he entered that ring and faced her, he felt such a sense of foreboding. He felt as if no matter what he did, no matter what spell he cast her way, Adrienne would just brush it aside. It didn't make him feel any better that when dueling her earlier, he could have sworn his wand was already out of his hand before she finished saying "expelliarmus." Harry shook his ahead and closed his eyes. In a matter of minutes, his wonderings about Adrienne's dueling ability were replaced with a dream, that come the next morning, he wouldn't remember. 

*** * * * ***

_"Lily, they have your eyes," said James quietly, crawling into the hospital bed with his wife, cradling a little bundle in his arms. _

Lily put her head on his shoulder. "Good, I like my eyes better than yours anyway," she said, smiling down at the little girl in her arms. 

"Hey, I think I have quite handsome eyes," said James a little defensively. 

Lily just smiled. "And they have your hair, or at least he does," she said, her eyes flipping towards the little boy with a head of black hair, sleeping in her husband's arms. 

"Yes, and our daughter is bald," said James smirking slightly. 

Lily give her daughter a kiss. "Don't listen to your daddy, we'll love you even if you don't grow any hair," she whispered. 

"You know what, Lily, we still haven't named them yet," said James thoughtfully, stroking his son's tiny hand. 

"I know, I know, it's just so hard to decide." 

"Well, we could call her Lily, after you," suggested James. 

"That would be too confusing, then we'd never know which Lily people were talking to," she said, turning her gaze to her husband. 

"Ok, let's make her middle name Lily." 

"Only if we make his middle name James."

James laughed. "Ok. Now only the first names," he sighed.

Lily stared into space for a while, thinking about all the male names she had ever heard. "I know, what about Harry, after your Grandfather," she said after a minute. 

James looked down at the little boy and tilted his head, contemplating. "Well, I guess it would be appropriate considering he has to have the most hair any newborn has ever had." Lily laughed in reply. "Harry James Potter, I like it. What about you, boy? What do you think about that name?" asked James. Harry wrinkled his face as if he was beginning to wake up. 

"We'll take that as a yes," said James. The two turned their attention to their little girl. "One down and one to go, Lily." 

Lily smiled contently at her daughter. 

"What about Petunia, after your sister; you know, kind of like a peace offering?" suggested James. 

Lily elbowed him hard. "Are you out of your mind?" 

"I was only joking," muttered James, realizing that after 23 hours of labor, Lily probably wasn't in a joking mood. 

"What about Rose?" he asked. 

Lily shook her head. "Then both of her names would be flowers." 

"Ok, how about . . ." James looked around the room, his gaze falling on a nearby magazine. On the front was a scholarly looking woman, Adrienne McArthur, the new American Ambassador. "What about Adrienne, after Ambassador McArthur. That's a strong name, and it'll always be associated with success now." 

Lily looked down at her daughter. "Adrienne Lily Potter," she whispered. "I like it. Harry and Adrienne Potter." 

"I like it too," whispered James, kissing his wife on the cheek. 

Across the hall, Dr. Matthew Jacobs handed a little girl to a nurse. 

"Her mother named her Adrienne Lily Miles," he said quietly. The nurse nodded and carried the little girl from the room. Dr. Jacobs turned back to the lifeless young mother lying on the hospital bed. 

"Time of death . . ." 


	12. A Symbol of Strength

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

Author's Note: I did not write Hagrid's vernacular. I tried several times and I couldn't get it right, so I give up. I plead artistic license! 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 12: A Symbol of Strength**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

As ever, the students filed into the Great Hall Halloween morning eagerly anticipating that evening's Halloween Feast. The Great Hall had been decorated with orange and black fairies. Realistic looking skeletons adorned the walls, and occasionally, after getting bored, jumped down and started roaming around. Like always, Hagrid had donated his gargantuan pumpkins and as the kids admired the jack-o-lanterns, spirits rose. 

Adrienne walked slowly into the crowded room, searching for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Adrienne's eyes roamed the length of the Gryffindor table, and, at the far end, she saw a spark of red hair. She walked towards it, hoping that this was Ron and not some other Weasley. Ron, Harry, and Hermione were sitting, eating, in silence. 

"Anything good this morning?" asked Adrienne, taking an empty seat next to Hermione. 

At this, Ron's face fell; he looked as if he wished he had taken a seat that wasn't between Harry and the second year next to him. 

"We have blueberry pancakes today," said Hermione, handing a plate of large cakes to Adrienne. 

Adrienne took it and began filling her plate. "The house elves at Salem never make blueberry pancakes. They're way too lazy," replied Adrienne, reaching for the butter. "Well, maybe the word lazy isn't the best word after all. It's just, not many elves are suited for freedom. Most of them don't like it. Actually, a lot of them leave Salem and go and work for smaller families. They prefer enslavement." 

"They do not!" exclaimed Hermione. 

Harry and Ron exchanged impatient glances; they had just remarked the other night on how Hermione hadn't mentioned anything about house elves since the train ride. 

Adrienne looked up surprised. "Honestly, I swear they do! I lived with them. The nice ones swallowed their pride and taught me some things. I can make chocolate chip cookies and apple pie. And, from spending time with them in the kitchens I've heard plenty of grumbling about how they wished they weren't free. They don't like it. They don't get pleasure from working for money. Their entire heritage has been providing services for a family. When you take that away from them they are only providing services for a paycheck, to them it isn't the same," said Adrienne, reaching across Hermione for a jug of orange juice. 

Hermione glared at Adrienne. "How can you be so backwards, Adrienne? I thought you would be one to care about the rights about other magical creatures! Don't you want them to have a chance to succeed? Don't you want them to have a chance to enjoy freedom? The entire magical world is so backwards. I thought you'd be different considering you grew up in the Muggle world. Obviously America doesn't instill the right to freedom as much as other countries think she does." 

At this Adrienne turned and faced Hermione. "Listen here, I care about the rights of other magical creatures just as much as you do! They have a right to follow their desires, their dreams. And if they want to be enslaved, if they enjoy it, if that is what they have their hearts set on doing - then let them! By all means, don't get in their way of happiness. And in America, Hermione, we are taught that everyone has a right to freedom. However, house elves don't live under the American culture, they live under a magical culture which has different social values and norms. And you think the magical world is backward Hermione? You think that? Then you try living in a society for ten years where you are looked down upon, where you are mistreated, neglected, abused, and scorned upon because you don't have a family. If persecuting a child for being an orphan isn't backwards, then I don't know what is! You sit here arguing over something that no one else thinks is a problem, even the subjects of your protest, when there are worse things going on in the world. Hermione, pick a fight worth fighting!" said Adrienne hotly. 

She stood up, pushing her plate back from the table and without another word strode away from the table and out of the Great Hall, not looking back. "She just doesn't see how contradictory she is: 'I'm from America "the land of the free" where "all men are created equal" but I believe in the enslavement of magical creatures,'" shot Hermione, fuming. 

*** * * * ***

"Have you been enjoying your dueling practices with Professor McGonagall?" asked Professor Lycé as she let Adrienne into the empty dueling classroom. 

"She isn't my favorite, but she did make me captain with Harry," answered Adrienne dully, swinging her bag onto a nearby desk. 

"I said you would be didn't I, or at least my grandfather said so. He seems to be quite interested in you. He always asks me questions. 'How is she getting along in her classes,' 'how does she do under pressure,' 'has she done anything out of the ordinary in your classroom?'" recited Professor Lycé, taking a seat next to Adrienne. 

Adrienne rolled her eyes. "What is he expecting me to do ... go berserk and curse everyone into a million pieces?" she muttered, still angry about her fight with Hermione. 

She didn't even really know what made her so angry; maybe it was the fact that Hermione seemed to always act better than her, superior to her. Just because Hermione was better in every class, except dueling, and she hadn't slimed a classroom or accidentally transfigured Professor McGonagall into a newt, didn't mean she could always act like a know-it-all. 

"Well, I don't think Professor Dumbledore believes you to be murderous, but I don't know, you look pretty dangerous right now," said Professor Lycé, "Is something the matter?" 

"I just had a fight with Hermione, that's all." 

Professor Lycé tilted her head to look into Adrienne's face. "Obviously that would happen," started Professor Lycé. 

"On no, it's not that, it's just, well, I don't know. She just makes me angry. She acts like because she can out study me in all but one of my classes she is superior than me. I could care less who is better, I just wish she wouldn't act like that. Plus, I don't think she's too thrilled about me. I mean, it used to be just her, Harry, and Ron and now there's me too. I think she misses the attention she used to have." 

"You know what, Adrienne, she may be better than you in your subjects, which is something she prides herself in. But you two are on very different levels magically; you're a lot stronger than she is, and she is, well, I doubt there are few people more intelligent than she is. But Adrienne, don't let something as trivial as this get between you. Hermione is just used to being the best, and you, Adrienne, are used to being in control, excluding your Transfiguration and Muggle life. You're not as inept at magic as you think you are. There is always a reason behind mistakes, and eventually you'll find a way to figure out Transfiguration. You'll find a way to get a long better with Hermione," said Professor Lycé, much like Professor Hartel would have done when Adrienne needed a cheering up. Adrienne looked curiously at Professor Lycé. "We all have a purpose Adrienne, I think yours will present itself sooner than later." 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne walked alone to Defense class; she had sped out of the classroom before Harry, Ron, or Hermione were even out of their seats. Professor Lycé had been right; she had gotten worked up over nothing. She had just been stressed from sleeping through her alarm and had taken it all out on Hermione. She did agree partly with Hermione, elves should have the right to freedom if they wanted it, but it was a fact that the house elves didn't want it. Somehow, in all of her research, Hermione had overlooked that. 

The Defense classroom was empty and Adrienne walked in cautiously. She didn't particularly like this class. She preferred Professor Hartel's method of teaching to Professor Wallace's, but then again, she had to admit, Professor Wallace's odd sense of humor was quite entertaining. On the blackboard, in geometrical capitals was written: The beginning of Magical Bubble Simulations. 

"Great," said Adrienne sinking down into her normal seat, vowing that she would apologize to Hermione for her rude behavior in the Great Hall. 

"I agree," muttered a quiet voice. 

Adrienne turned and Hermione, Ron, and Harry, walked through the door, Hermione in the lead, looking very awkward. 

"I'm not looking forward to this bubble idea," answered Adrienne, a grim smile crossing her face, "But I bet Professor Wallace will love to watch us. What is with her, she acts like our lives are one large soap opera made exclusively for her viewing pleasure." 

Harry smiled and sat down next to her. "If she says one more thing about what it must feel like to be on the hit-list of a mad man, I might scream!" he said, stretching his arms over his head. 

Hermione sat down on the other side of Adrienne. Harry leaned back and cast Hermione a meaningful glance. 

"Um, Adrienne, I . . ." she started but Adrienne interrupted her. 

"I wanted to apologize, Hermione. I have had a lot on my mind lately, especially today and I took it all out on you. You are entitled to your beliefs and I'm sorry for acting like I did. Please don't apologize, if anyone was in the wrong, it was me," said Adrienne, her eye's staring into Hermione's with an intense concentration. 

"Well, apology accepted but I honestly feel bad about what I said, I shouldn't have said. . ." 

"You didn't say anything wrong, Hermi, I'm sorry for yelling at you. Please, could we just put it behind us, it's over now," said Adrienne, not wanting to hear Hermione apologize, for one reason, because she wasn't completely sorry: Yelling at Hermione had lifted the feeling of foreboding she had been carrying and even if Hermione was just the scapegoat, Adrienne felt it was good for someone to challenge her once in a while. 

Hermione smiled awkwardly and opened her mouth, no doubt to try and apologize again, but the rest of the class had entered along with Professor Wallace in bright orange robes. Adrienne laughed; she looked like she had been dressed by Professor Glenn; remembering Professor Glenn's olive shirt, Adrienne laughed even harder, trying to stifle her giggles in her hand. 

"Ah, welcome to the first day of our use of the Magical Simulation Bubble. I am quite sure you will all find today enjoyable and educational. Now, the MSB is something that is very simple to use. All you do is hold the bubble in your left hand." Professor Wallace demonstrated this, the sparkling bubble gleaming in her hand. 

"Wouldn't you think that those stones on her rings would pop it?" asked Harry, leaning back so he could talk to Hermione, around Adrienne. 

"Maybe she has an unbreakable charm on it. Too bad though, perhaps if she drops it..." said Ron wistfully, not at all thrilled to be beginning their bubble simulations. 

"You place your right hand on top," Professor Wallace did not demonstrate this though, "and viola, you enter the bubble to begin your simulation. Now nothing can hurt you in the bubble, and to exit it you just snap your fingers, both hands though." 

"Snap your fingers?" asked Ron, smirking slightly, "That sounds like something those witches on the Muggle movies we watched would do. Just snap you fingers and, what did she say? Viola!" said Ron, his voice getting louder as he spoke. 

Professor Wallace cast a patronizing glance at him and Ron quickly looked down, pretending to be very interested in the top of the desk. 

"So, entering and exiting is simple, and the simulation is simple. I just give you an assignment, you enter the bubble, meet the magical creature, complete the assignment, and exit. Who wants to go first?" she asked, setting the MSB on the desk and clapping her hands together excitedly. 

Every student slouched in their desk, trying as hard as they could to become invisible. 

"Come on now, anyone, it will be fun!" said Professor Wallace, her eyes scanning the classroom, searching for a student. Here eyes fell on Harry. 

Harry groaned, and looked at Hermione. "Think of something, I don't want to go. She'll probably make me face a Death Eater or something like that so she can be entertained," pleaded Harry. 

Hermione looked at Professor Wallace, who seemed to be contemplating exactly what she should make Harry face. Hermione cast a glance at Adrienne, "Any ideas?" she whispered. 

Adrienne sat there for a second, first looking at Harry, who was now pale, obviously dreading what he would meet in the MSB if Professor Wallace chose him, and then looking at Professor Wallace, who at that moment had broken into a wide grin. Before the professor could say anything, Adrienne stood up. 

"I'd like to go first, Professor," she said, pushing back her chair and sending a quick smile at Harry, who sighed with relief. 

Professor Wallace's face fell. "Well, I had someone else in mind . . ." 

"No really, Professor, I'm volunteering; why don't you just give me that little MSB thing and we'll get this show on the road," said Adrienne, walking towards her professor. 

All the students stared at her. None of them wanted to try out the bubble; many of them were still making bets on what kind of evil creature Professor Wallace would turn out to be by the end of the year. 

Professor Wallace looked at Adrienne disappointedly but picked up the MSB and held it out to the girl. Adrienne took it. It weighed barely anything and as she made sure her the bubble was securely in her left hand, the bubble began to change colors. No longer did it gleam and sparkle, but a dark color was invading it, like ink filling a bottle. Adrienne starred at the MSB, and took a deep breath. 

"All I do is go in there, pull out my wand, and hope I know how to defeat the creature?" asked Adrienne, turning her gaze to her Professor. 

"That's all you do, but I expect from your transfer grades Miss Miles, that whatever you face should be of no real difficulty," said Professor Wallace, clearly disappointed that she was going to be watching Miles instead of Potter: He always made things much more entertaining. 

"And how do you know what is going on?" asked Adrienne, casting a nervous glance at the MSB, which was now completely jet-black. 

"It will project onto the wall what is going on inside, so we all can see," said Professor Wallace, noticing for the first time the gold necklace that had surfaced from underneath Adrienne's robes. 

Adrienne placed her right hand on top of the MSB, and all at once, a bolt of energy flew through her body and as soon as it started, it stopped, leaving Adrienne shaking slightly. 

The MSB was no longer in Adrienne's hands. She looked up; all around her and above her was darkness. A small area was lit with an unearthly glow, this light fading into the dark unknown. Adrienne shuddered and reached for her wand. She drew out the long piece of wood, running her fingers over it, praying that she would know what to do, not wanting to make a fool of herself in front of her entire class, whom she knew would be watching intently. 

A slight movement in a corner drew her attention. Adrienne turned, raising her wand in a defensive position. Out of the darkness walked a tall figure, robbed in black. The figure walked towards her, stopping several yards in front of her. Adrienne took a step backwards, wondering what was under the cloak. Two white hands reached up and pulled back the hood. A man with white hair and white eyes stood in front of her. His lips weren't red, but deathly pale. He looked at her, a cruel smile playing on his thin lips. 

Adrienne swallowed hard, "A dark Accabadian," she whispered. She had heard of them from Professor Hartel; she had seen pictures of them; she had learned what they were capable of, but she had ever learned how to defeat them. They were thought to be extinct as none had been spotted for thousands of years. They were the original masters of the Ancient Dark Arts, the opposite of those who had practiced the Ancient Light Arts, the Accabaidan arts, those commonly known as Perfects. Why they had been called this, Adrienne didn't know, but she did know that Perfects were capable of the highest level of magic, and the dark Accabadians were capable of stealing magical powers. 

The pale man raised a hand, his eyes boring into Adrienne's. A small red light was swirling in his palm. Adrienne pointed her wand and shouted, "Stupify." 

A white light issued from her wand, heading straight towards the man, but he only lifted his other hand, deflecting it barehanded. Adrienne lowered her guard and watched as the red light grew brighter; she had no idea what he was doing, but the longer she stood there, staring at him, especially his hand and his eyes, she felt her defenses fall, her wand lower. The man smiled wickedly and opened his mouth to speak to her. 

"Aren't you even going to fight?" he asked in a deep echoing voice. 

Adrienne blinked, she felt extremely lightheaded and everything around her was beginning to spin. 

"You think you are safe?" asked the man, the red light now swirling so large that it obstructed his arm. 

Adrienne shook her head, something wasn't right. Professor Wallace had told them the first day of class that nothing bad would happen, that if she were to be attacked, she'd just feel a tingling sensation. Adrienne shook her head again; everything was spinning, all she could focus on was the red light that now was seeming to reach for her. Something in Adrienne's mind was screaming at her, "something's wrong!" 

Adrienne couldn't stand, the red light was only feet away from her now. She sunk to her knees and reached for her necklace; Joe and Mia had told her it was a symbol of strength, and if anything, she needed that right now. Her right hand gripped it, and as it did, a searing pain shot through it. Adrienne screamed, her hand burning, her nerves on fire. She tried to let go, but she couldn't; her fingers wouldn't listen. The red light was closing in on her and she could barely see him; his eyes were now closed and he was chanting. 

Adrienne screamed louder as her hand burned with pain, and suddenly with a tug she ripped her necklace off and it dropped out of her hand and to the floor. The red light was now encircling her, and she could feel it pulling at her. Adrienne reached for her wand, but she couldn't find it: She had dropped it, and now, in the blinding light she couldn't see it. Adrienne shook furiously, her entire body under siege, the light penetrating her, searching through her. As Adrienne slumped to the ground, her knees giving way, she did the only thing she could think of, and it made no sense at all: She raised her right hand towards the general direction of the man and yelled, "ENOUGH!"... 

It was very bright; Adrienne sat up slowly and opened her eyes, squinting. She was alone, her wand lying a few feet away, her necklace in the other direction. The man was gone, the darkness now looming in, as menacing as before. Adrienne took a deep breath and stood up, completely confused about what had just happened. 

Adrienne bent down to retrieve her wand and then walked over to her necklace. It looked strange; it was no longer a shiny golden color but the dull color of burnt wood. She bent down to pick it up, but as she touched it, it crumbled: it had been reduced to ash. Adrienne stood there staring at the ash outline of her beautiful necklace, her eyes wide in horror. She reached out again to touch it, hoping her mind was playing tricks on her. Her right hand lingered at the floor, finally picking up some ash. She pushed it around in her palm, unbelieving, and then, as she brushed it off, she saw it: the outline of a triangle, burned dead center, into the palm of her hand. 

*** * * * * **

Professor Wallace stared at her, her eyes wide in anticipation as Adrienne emerged from the bubble. 

"What happened, Miss Miles? We couldn't see anything: It was all red!" said Professor Wallace walking towards her, her hand out eagerly as if to congratulate her on providing such an odd show of red light. 

"I, um, well, met a boggart," muttered Adrienne, not wanting to say she met an extinct dark Accabaidan who had tried to confiscate her powers, engulfed her in red light, and to top it off, in her defense Adrienne had somehow reduced her beautiful necklace to ash, not to mention the fact that she had burnt her hand, and the MSB hadn't worked as Professor Wallace had said, "I'm afraid of, um, fire, that's it." 

Professor Wallace's face fell; she had obviously been hoping for a more exciting story. She glanced at the clock, realizing that the hour had flown by, and dismissed the class; however, for some odd reason, she could have sworn she smelt the faint smell of burnt flesh. 

*** * * * * **

"So what was it like? You sure were in there a long time, Adrienne," asked Ron, as he pulled out a chair for her. 

Adrienne sat down. Um, it was an experience," muttered Adrienne, glancing at her hand; the burn mark was still there. 

Professor Dumbledore stood up to say a couple words before the Halloween Feast, but Adrienne didn't hear them, she was wondering why the Accabadian had affected her when Professor Wallace said nothing bad could happen while in the MSB. She leaned back in her chair, glancing around the room, everyone had began eating. She wasn't feeling very hungry and excused herself, mumbling something about a stomachache. 


	13. Gryffindor vs Slytherin

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

Author's Note: I did not write Hagrid's vernacular. I tried several times and I couldn't get it right, so I give up. I plead artistic license! 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 13: Gryffindor vs. Slytherin**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

The wind whipped Adrienne's hair and face as she followed Harry, shivering furiously, out of the castle. Adrienne tightened her grip on her Firebolt and bowed her head against the gale that was trying with all its might to push her back. 

"This will be an interesting game," she yelled to Harry. 

Harry cast a quick glance at the dull gray sky and nodded his agreement. "There always is something wrong with the first game. Always. My first year a Death Eater tried to curse me off my broom, my second year I lost all the bones in my arm, and my third year we had the pleasure of hosting a hoard of dementors," said Harry, turning his head so Adrienne would be able to hear him. 

"And your fifth year we'll be the victims of a murderous gale bent on ripping us off our brooms and sending us pummeling towards certain death a hundred feet below," Adrienne replied sardonically. 

Harry stopped in his tracks and turned. "Well aren't we a stunning model of optimism today," he said sarcastically. 

Adrienne shrugged and pushed her way into the locker room. 

"Finally!" called a hysterical voice. Alicia Spinnet crossed the room in a second, her face a mixture between extreme anger and relief. "We thought you wouldn't make it!" she said, nearly shouting, "We wouldn't be able to play without a seeker, what did you think you were doing!" 

Harry cast an amused face to George who mouthed, "She's just a little stressed out." 

Alicia threw a scarlet robe to Harry and one to Adrienne. 

"The game doesn't begin for twenty minutes, Alicia, take a breath and settled down," said Harry, pulling off his black school robes and pulling his Quidditch robes over his shorts and T-shirt, desperately wishing he would have worn something warmer. 

Alicia choose to ignore Harry and instead turned her attention back to the team. "So, as ever with our Quidditch luck, we've been given a day that has a horrendous wind that most likely won't even allow us to hear Lee's commentary and we have to play Slytherin . And we all know that with their extra bulk the wind won't be as much as a bother to them. We cannot let them win! We need to start out the season with a win. I've seen them practice, and they've improved, WE HAVE TO WIN!" Alicia continued to rant for five minutes, every other phrase consisting of 'WE HAVE TO WIN' and finally collapsed onto a bench, red faced and out of breath. 

Adrienne watched the scene in astonishment. "Is Quidditch always this competitive here?" she asked Harry. 

"Always, especially between us and Slytherin; she's right, we can't afford to lose this one," Harry replied, standing up and making his way over to Alicia to tell her that if he had any say in it, Slytherin wouldn't even get a chance to score. This cheered Alicia up right away, her mind obviously skipping over the odds of Harry catching the snitch in the first seconds of the game. 

Adrienne got up and walked around the locker room, which was now extremely silent. She placed her Firebolt on a bench and stretched her arms above her, her mind slipping back to the Defense class from a week ago. She still hadn't told anyone what had happened in there, and no one had asked. Adrienne held her right hand out in front of her to stare at the still bright triangle burn mark; she also hadn't written to Professors Glenn and Hartel to tell them that their beautiful gift had been reduced to ash and its outline now adorned her palm. She didn't know quite how she would begin a letter like that. 

"What you looking at, Adrienne?" asked Harry, walking up next to her. 

Adrienne quickly dropped her hand and shrugged. "Nothing really, just thinking," she said turning to Harry and smiling. 

Harry could tell she wasn't telling the truth but didn't have the faintest idea what she was hiding. He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. 

"You're not nervous are you?" he asked, fully aware of the butterflies that had been tormenting him all morning, just as they had before every game since he began playing. 

Adrienne smiled. "No, are you?" 

"No." 

*** * * * * **

"And now, after a year's hiatus, what we have all been anxiously waiting for since the start of the term . . . this year's first Quidditch match," resounded Lee Jordan's voice, miraculously holding its own against the ferocious gale. The entire stadium watched with bated breath as seven players clad in scarlet and seven clad in emerald walked onto the field. 

"There's Harry," said Hermione, nudging Ron. 

Ron stood up and stared down onto the field. "And there's Adrienne," he replied, sitting down happily. 

"And what a game this will be; long time rivals Slytherin and Gryffindor will go head to head to open what many of us are thinking to be the most competitive Quidditch season Hogwarts as seen in a long while." 

The players had now lined themselves up opposite of each other and were giving one another their traditional pre-game threatening faces. A tall, burly boy Adrienne had never met loomed in front of her, glaring menacingly. Adrienne raised her eyebrows and smiled a pleasant smile in response. 

"Playing for Gryffindor: Bell, Creevey, Miles, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Potter!" called out Lee, and the stadium filled with a burst of cheer that drowned out the tumultuous roar of the wind. 

"And playing for Slytherin: Bole, Danhof, Derrick, Lesant, Montague, Volstechy, and Malfoy!" The avid cheers from the Slytherin end no doubt were present, but against the roar of the gale, no one heard them. 

Madam Hooch walked quickly onto the field, her broomstick under her left arm and a large crate in her hands. She set the box on the ground, mounted her broom, and looked toward Spinnet and Montague. 

"Captains, shake hands," she said, screaming against the wind. Spinnet and Montague reached across the invisible line that divided the two teams and quickly touched their hands, dropping them almost instantaneously to show their disgust. 

Madam Hooch raised her whistle to her mouth. "Players mount your brooms!" 

In unison the fourteen players slid onto their brooms. 

"On my mark!" 

And with a barely audible whistle, the players flew into the air. 

"And Montegue has the quaffle," called Lee, as Montegue made his way towards little Colin Creevey, who hovered anxiously, yet determinedly in front of the Gryffindor goalposts. 

"And here come the Weasleys; they'll have to aim perfectly to stop Montegue." 

Fred raised his club and sent a bludger soaring towards Montegue. Montegue ducked and shot, the quaffle soaring through the air. Out of no where came the second bludger, which George had hit with all his might, biting his tongue in the process. George's bludger and the quaffle met with a loud smack that no one except Creevey and Montegue could hear. The quaffle flew off track and Alicia caught it, flipping over in mid air and making her way like lightening across the field. 

"Look out, Alicia, that bozo is after you!" called Lee, standing up in his chair. 

"Lee," warned Professor McGonagall; she had promised herself that Lee wouldn't be getting away with any of his antics this year. 

"Bole has sent a nasty bludger her way and its intercepted by a sharp hit by Weasley, never mind which one." 

A loud groan spread over the crowd. 

"Damn it, and Volstechy has intercepted the quaffle," said Lee, turning quickly so that McGonagall couldn't wrench the magical megaphone from him. 

Harry watched the activity from above; Fred had sent a bludger at Volstechy and the quaffle fell. Harry watched as Adrienne sped towards it, catching it easily and flattening herself on her Firebolt, heading towards a group of Slytherins who had seemed to try and make a human wall to stop her. Unfortunately for them, Adrienne didn't stop and flew at top speed right towards them, clipping Montegue's shoulder. 

"And now it's just Miles and Slytherin's excellent keeper, Danhof. She shoots, 10-0 Gryffindor!" yelled Lee. 

The stadium burst into applause and Harry sent a thumb's up to Adrienne before returning his mind to searching for the snitch. He flew higher, passing Malfoy who gave Harry a very dirty face. 

"And its Volstechy, intercepted by Bell, to Spinnet, back to Bell, to Miles. Watch out for those bludgers, and I don't believe it, 20-0!" "30-0!" 

"70-0" 

"110-0 and Miles is on a roll, scoring 5 out of the 11 goals for Gryffindor, and oh shit, would you look at that!" yelled Lee. 

"Mr. Jordan!" yelled Professor McGonagall, drawing her wand, determined to just summon that megaphone; however, she stopped upon realizing what had caused such an outburst. 

Harry had gone into a magnificent dive, flying literally straight downwards, his hand reaching out to catch the snitch. Malfoy was no where close to catching him, but just as Harry was about to close the deal, Bole and Derrick had both sent their bludgers his way, making him turn up quickly to avoid being hit on both sides. 

"And the snitch disappears," sighed Lee angrily. 

The wind was picking up even worse now, which did not benefit Gryffindor at all. 

"These light Gryffindor Chasers are not fairing well against the wind," commented Lee, as Katie Bell flew off course for the third time during the last several minutes. With Gryffindor's Chaser's inability to maintain their direction, no points were being scored, and Slytherin was taking the advantage. 

"And its Lesant, to Montegue, to Volstechy. We haven't seen young Creevey yet. Will he hold up - and Volstechy shoots!" 

Colin's eyes widened in fear as the quaffle sped towards him and banked hard to the right, catching the quaffle easily. 

"Well, that answers our questions about Creevey, bring it on Slytherin! Bring it on!" yelled Lee. 

Harry circled the pitch; he had not yet seen the snitch again. Fortunately, neither had Malfoy, and it was obvious that this was beginning to bother him. Malfoy was casting angry glances at the scoreboard, cursing silently under his breath. 

"That stupid Miles girl," he muttered, changing directions suddenly, his glare becoming more menacing as Lee's voice echoed throughout the stadium. 

"And its Miles again, she hasn't missed a shot yet, and look at her go. Just like Potter she as a Firebolt and boy can she fly. Danhof just can't hold her, its 120 - 0 Gryffindor!" 

As Harry's ears filled with applause, he saw it, the Snitch, hovering inches off the ground in the center of the pitch. He shot a quick glance at Malfoy. Malfoy was much closer, and Harry realized, Firebolt or not, he wouldn't make it. No one had yet noticed the presence of the snitch, but he knew it was only a matter of time before Malfoy did. Harry dived, diagonally across the field away from the snitch and Malfoy followed. Harry slowed down and as Malfoy leveled with him he flipped over. Now flying upside down, he hurtled toward the snitch and spiraled back right-side-up. He dove steeper, and with a swipe of his hand Lee's voice rang through the crowd. 

"And with a spectacular show of his mastership of a broom, Harry Potter has captured the snitch, bringing the score to, I don't believe it, 270 - 0 Gryffindor!" 

Cheers burst through the gale and Harry flew back up into the air to meet his teammates. Returning to a height of one hundred and fifty feet, Malfoy glared at him and cast another hateful glance towards the scoreboard. 

"Pathetic," he yelled and turned with the intentions of flying back to the Slytherin locker room entrance; however, right ahead of him, flying slowly, trying to put her hair back into a bun was Adrienne, holding onto her Firebolt with only her legs. 

Before Adrienne knew what was happening Malfoy had flew into her, cleverly making it look like a complete accident, and with a terrified scream Adrienne toppled off her broom. Everyone watched horrified as she fell, her arms and legs failing wildly. Adrienne's screams stopped dead as she saw the ground rushing up to meet her. 

Harry turned just in time to see her fall and in an instant was speeding towards her. Time seemed to stop as Adrienne closed her eyes, waiting for it to end. Without thinking, she reached her right arm up to the sky. As Harry sped towards her, her Firebolt, now floating lazily where Adrienne had left it entered a steep dive. And as her heart rose in her chest, she felt something grab her wrist. 

"Hold on Adrienne!" shouted Harry, as he slid sideways off his Firebolt, holding one-handedly onto Adrienne and gripping his Firebolt with only his knees and left hand. Try as he could, hanging there like that, he was not in a position to actually fly. 

The crowd watched anxiously as Harry hovered fifty feet off the ground, holding desperately onto Adrienne. Adrienne looked into his eyes, too afraid to speak, silently pleading with him not to let go. The rest of the Gryffindor team was flying towards them as fast as they could; however, just as Harry's grip slipped, Adrienne's Firebolt arrived. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, she pulled her body up onto her broomstick, Harry pulled himself back onto his Firebolt, and the two flew to the ground. 

Adrienne toppled off, shaking madly; her breath completely ragged, and tears welling in her eyes. 

"Are you ok, Adrienne?" 

"Miss Miles, what happened?" 

"You scared us, Adrienne!" 

All the voices ran together and with a bemused glance around, she fainted. 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne walked into the dungeons, following Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Adrienne smiled to herself. As she had hung there, in midair, as Harry had clung on desperately to her wrist, Adrienne had felt the oddest feeling. Hanging there, unable to speak, staring into his eyes, pleading, they had formed a bond. Not one of a best friend, or boyfriend, or anything like that; she couldn't place her finger on it, but something changed between them that instant, and even if it had only happened two days ago, she could already see a difference. 

Harry treated Ron like a best friend, and now that he and Hermione were officially an item, he treated her like how a perfect gentleman would treat the girl of his dreams. But Adrienne, he treated her with a respect and protectionistic attitude that she had only received from Professor Glenn. In the past two days Harry had taken Adrienne's wellbeing upon himself. First off, avenging her fall. 

Malfoy hadn't seen it coming, literally. He Crabbe and Goyle and been walking up from their common room when Ron and Harry had appeared before them, wearing Harry's invisibility cloak. With a few choice words and inspiration from the fake Moody, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were transfigured into three ugly goats. And Harry, having spent ample time with Hermione studying the art of conjuring, conjured up three signs around the goats' neck. Crabbe's reading Stupid, Goyle's reading Stupider, and Malfoy's reading Stupidest. 

After some confused discussion between the professors, Professor McGonagall transfigured the goats back, and even though Malfoy and Professor Snape were sure that Harry had done it, no proof was evident, and Malfoy and his cronies had spent the rest of Sunday seething. 

*** * * * ***

"My Lord, when do you plan on calling the Dementors?" asked Peter Pettigrew, shaking slightly. 

Voldemort leaned back in his chair and brought the tips of his long fingers together in front of him. "Soon, Wormtail, soon," he whispered, a trace of a smile developing on his face. 

"And the envoys to the giants?" Voldemort's smile quickly faded. "I sent Lucius last week; they have denied." 

"What, my Lord?" 

"That meddling fool, Dumbledore, got to them first! They will pay though, Wormtail, they will pay with their blood," spat Voldemort, his left arm reaching for the box on the table next to his throne-like chair. He opened the box and lifted out the Golden Serpent. "They will all pay, all of them." 

Wormtail stood silently, twisting his fingers in front of him, the flickering torchlight reflecting off his glittering hand. 

"The Perfect will be mine, and she will hand us everything, Wormtail; with her on our side, nothing can stop us." 

"And how will you make her turn against her brother?" asked Wormtail, seriously doubting the feasibility of Voldemort's new plan. 

"She will have no choice; she will obey us," whispered Voldemort, stroking the pendant. 

"And if she doesn't?" asked Pettigrew rather bravely. 

Voldemort looked up at him maliciously and drew his wand. "Are you doubting me again, Wormtail? Because if you are . . ." 

"No, no, My Lord, it's just, she's a Potter, and your luck with killing Potters hasn't been that um, well . . ." 

"You mistake me, I don't want her dead; she is of no use to me dead. There is a dark side to everyone, Wormtail, and all I have to do is find the key to let it escape," said Voldemort coldly. Wormtail swallowed. 

"And how do you plan to kill Harry this time, My Lord?" 

Voldemort's face broke into a malicious smile, and his eyes shone with a crude excitement. "Harry will not escape me this time; his sister will see to that, Wormtail; his sister will see to that." 


	14. The Sinosidelia Curse

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

Author's Note: I did not write Hagrid's vernacular. I tried several times and I couldn't get it right, so I give up. I plead artistic license! 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 14: The Sinosidelia Curse**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

"I swear she summoned her broom at the game," snapped Snape, glaring down the table at Dumbledore. 

Dumbledore didn't respond, he only leaned back in his chair. 

McGonagall cast a glance from Snape to Dumbledore and then sighed. "I don't see how it can be possible, Severus," answered McGonagall, breathing in deeply. "It doesn't make any sense." 

"Of course it makes sense, Minerva," spat Snape. "What normal girl can do magic without a wand? She summoned her broom before Harry could lose his grip… she never pulled out her wand." 

"Every magical person can do magic without a wand to some extent," answered Flitwick, who was swaying on his huge pile of books. The staffroom was quiet for several minutes. 

"No, I knew when I met her; she isn't a normal girl, and worse off, she's a Potter," said Snape, his eyes narrowing. 

Dumbledore seemed to be brought back from his reverie by this statement. "That remains to be proven, Severus, but I agree, that would fulfill part of the prophecy," said Dumbledore quietly. 

McGonagall laughed. "You don't mean to tell me that somehow, several hours after being born, Adrienne Potter died and then came back to life years later," said McGonagall smiling. "That one is just a little unlikely." 

"She didn't have to die," said Sybill quietly. McGonagall sent her a very stern look stating quite clearly that if she didn't stay out of this she had better start running in the opposite direction. Sybill ignored this. "There were two Adriennes born that day," she said quietly. 

Everyone looked at her amazed, except Dumbledore. 

"And how do you know this?" asked Professor Lycé, but before Sybill could answer Professor Dumbledore had stood up. 

"She is correct. There was an Adrienne Miles and an Adrienne Potter both born at that particular Muggle hospital that day. This has crossed my mind, the possibility that Adrienne Potter never died," he said, looking out a window. 

They sat quietly, the same thought crossing everyone's mind except for McGonagall's, who knew what he was getting at right away. "If she is indeed Adrienne Potter, then she's a . . ." 

"She's the first Perfect in a over three thousand years," replied Dumbledore. 

At this, Snape looked up quickly.

"If she is a Potter, Voldemort will be after her too," said Flitwick, beginning to tremble. An eerie silence fell over the room. 

Snape sat quietly, his eyes closed, trying to remember what Voldemort had told them yesterday. Snape had indeed, on Dumbledore's request, gone back to the Death Eaters, professing his unfailing devotion, claiming he too had just been biding his time. Voldemort had seemed quite skeptical, but after much ridiculous begging, he had been welcomed back into the fold. 

"Voldemort doesn't want her dead," Snape whispered. 

Dumbledore turned and looked at him curiously. "What exactly does he want, Severus?" 

"He wants her to deliver Potter to him." 

The staffroom went silent again, and finally Processor Wallace spoke. "She wouldn't do that," she replied while filing her long nails. 

Snape didn't answer; he just hoped she was right. *** * * * * **

Adrienne was sprawled out on the Gryffindor common room floor, her head propped up on her arm, "Check." 

Ron looked at the chessboard, contemplating his next move. "Checkmate," he finally said, moving a rook. 

"Can't you just let me win once?" asked Adrienne, rolling over onto her back and looking up at the ceiling, "I'm getting tired of losing." 

Ron smirked. "That's not my problem." 

She sat up and turned to face him. "You told me you'd teach me," she said, raising an eyebrow. 

"And that I did, but I didn't say I'd make you any good," replied Ron, picking up his chess set. 

"You should be more nice to me," shot back Adrienne, standing up. 

Ron smiled slightly. "And why would I want to do that?" 

Adrienne shot him a coy smile. "There could be benefits, goodnight, Ron." 

She turned and walked towards the spiral staircase that led to the girls' dormitories. After she had left, Ron walked over to Harry, who was shining his Firebolt. 

"I think she likes me," sighed Ron, falling into an empty chair. 

"Ever going to find your tongue and ask her out?" Harry asked, running the cloth over the handle for the final time. 

Ron didn't respond, a dreamy expression engulfing his face. "How does Adrienne Weasley sound to you?" he finally asked, smiling broadly. 

Harry looked up from his Firebolt, an expression of pure amusement on his face. "I think you're skipping some essential steps there, Ron." 

*** * * * * **

"Now the first dueling tournament is this Saturday, tomorrow," said Professor McGonagall, fingering her wand nervously, "and it will be a tough one. We're going against Slytherin, and Professor Snape teaches dueling a lot more aggressively. I've seen them practice; they focus on very complicated curses, some of which I don't even know how to block. So we want to go for a quick win, no fancy tricks, just disarm or stun before they can get you. Any questions?" 

No one moved. 

"So, today we are going to have our last practice before the tournament. Before we begin, may I see Potter and Miles outside please," said McGonagall walking towards the door. Adrienne shot a questioning glance at Harry and stood up. 

Harry shut the classroom door behind him and turned to face Professor McGonagall, who seemed not to be her usual sure self. 

"Is something the matter, Professor?" asked Adrienne. 

Professor McGonagall cast a glance down the dark hall, her eyebrows raising as she saw Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape standing, barely visible, at the end. 

"No, nothing's the matter. I just wanted to tell you that I want Potter to compete first, and you, Miss Miles, to compete last," replied McGonagall. 

*** * * * ***

"Are you sure, Headmaster?" asked Snape, slowly pulling out his wand, "This isn't quite legal." 

"Right when I perform the concealing charm," replied Dumbledore, raising his wand. 

"And if it doesn't work, she'll be a sitting duck during the tournament," said Snape, hesitantly. 

Dumbledore smiled. "So, worried about Slytherin having an unfair advantage tomorrow?" asked Dumbledore. 

Snape raised his eyebrows and turned to look at Dumbledore. "No, it would be to our advantage if she can't compete, but I also want Slytherin to win fairly." 

"I would not be doing this is I thought it would inhibit Gryffindor's chances," replied Dumbledore, "On three Severus. One, two, three. . . Conceal Incantatum." 

"Containium," whispered Snape. 

*** * * * ***

"And Welcome to the first ever Hogwarts Dueling Tournament," Neville Longbottom's nervous voice echoed throughout the crowded Great Hall. 

All the tables had been removed, except for the High Table. Muggle style bleachers adorned the sides of the hall, and the students were all sitting, chatting excitedly. An air of electric suspense filled the room. 

"Today we have the Gryffindor Primary Team verses the Slytherin Primary Team." 

At the High Table sat Professors Dumbledore, Lycé, Wallace, and Vector, who were serving as the judges. In the center of the room was a large dueling ring, and on opposite sides, a little ways back, were eight chairs. Adrienne sat quietly in hers, casting glances at Draco, who sat across from her. 

"I'm nervous," muttered Hermione, who looked rather green, "I can't do this, I can't." 

Adrienne turned in her seat and put a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "You can, Hermione, don't worry about it," whispered Adrienne. 

"That's easy for you to say, and by the way, what happened last night? Why didn't you come back to practice?" asked Hermione, wringing her hands nervously. 

"Professor McGonagall thought I looked pale. She made me go up to the common room and go to bed. She said she didn't want me getting sick," muttered Adrienne, "But it doesn't matter, I never practice right before a tournament anyway; never, Professor Hartel used to take my wand twenty-four hours prior to a tournament so I could focus. She always said your mental state is more important anyway." 

Hermione turned even greener. "My mind isn't any help to me when I'm dueling; I know all kinds of curses but I can't always think of them in time," she muttered. 

"That's because you're thinking too hard. Try not thinking, just do the first thing that comes to mind; your instincts are usually more appropriate than your rational thought," replied Adrienne. 

"The Captains of the Gryffindor team are Harry Potter and Adrienne Miles," resounded Neville. Cheers rang out through the hall. 

"And the Slytherin Captains are Draco Malfoy and Roland Montegue." Only the Slytherins cheered. 

Professor McGonagall walked down the line, wishing all her students good-luck. 

She stopped next to Adrienne and bent down to whisper in her ear. "Whatever happens, Adrienne, don't stop, finish your duel." McGonagall continued down the line and Adrienne's eyes followed her, confused. 

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked herself. 

"And dueling first are Potter and Malfoy!" 

Harry stood up, straightening his maroon team robes. 

"Curse him into a million pieces, Harry," whispered Ron. 

"I believe in you, Harry," whispered Hermione. 

"Don't try and prove anything, Potter, just win," whispered Adrienne. 

"That's helpful," shot back Harry; he grinned though and saluted himself into the ring. 

"Duelers, face your opponents," said Professor Dumbledore, who was now standing behind the High Table. 

"Last time we dueled I won, Potter," smirked Malfoy, barely moving his lips. 

"Well, now you've gotten it out of your system," shot back Harry. 

"Duelers, bow." 

Harry and Draco barely moved and then quickly raised their wands to a fighting position. 

"On my mark ... three ... two ... one ... mark." 

"Stupefy!" shouted Draco as the hall filled with a bright white light. Harry blocked it and shot back the impediment curse. 

"Anoptico!" shot Draco. 

Adrienne sat at the edge of her seat, watching Harry and Draco duel. She noticed that as time progressed, Draco was seeming to lose his edge and Harry was gaining more and more confidence, finally yelling, "Wingardium Leviosa!" 

Draco opened his eyes in horror, realizing that he didn't know a block for it. This split second break in Draco's concentration was all Harry needed: 

"Expelliarmus!" and Draco's wand shot towards Harry, who raised it in the air and flipped his own wand to let Draco fall back to the ground. 

"And Potter wins. That makes the score 1-0, Gryffindor!" 

Harry took Draco's hand, for an extremely short split second, and then saluted himself out of the dueling ring. 

"Excellent, Mr. Potter, wonderful use of distraction," said McGonagall, smiling slightly. 

"Next up is Samantha Henderson and Pansy Parkinson." 

Harry wished the very nervous sixth year good luck and took her seat. 

"Happy, Miles, I won," whispered Harry to Adrienne, who was sitting next to him. 

Adrienne didn't respond, her face was set, her eyes unblinking, unmoving, fixed on some unknown item in her mind. Harry turned his attention back to the duelers, wondering how Adrienne could block out the entire world like that and wondering what was going through her mind. 

"Expelliarmus!" yelled Samantha, flicking her wand with a flourish. Pansy blocked it expertly and with a look of extreme concentration yelled, "Anoptico!" 

A blinding yellow light shot from her wand straight at Samantha. She was too slow, the curse hit her, and suddenly Harry felt very relieved he had been able to block that one. Samantha blinked and raised a hand in front of her. She couldn't see. 

Adrienne snapped back to life in a second. "You don't need to see, Samantha, you don't need to; focus Sam!" she yelled, earning herself a sharp look from McGonagall. However, Samantha couldn't pull back her concentration, and Pansy easily disarmed her. 

"And after two rotations it's tied," said Neville, his voice not shaking as much now, "This will be an interesting match folks. If anyone can break this tie it's Gryffindor's Hermione Granger, who is up next against Lila Bakers." 

Hermione stood up, shaking slightly. Adrienne grabbed her before she could make it to the ring. "Hermi, don't rationalize, just let it happen - k?" 

Hermione nodded and saluted herself in. 

"She doesn't look too well," muttered Harry. 

"She'll be fine," answered Adrienne, not quite believing herself. 

But Neville had been right; Hermione did win, using a quick succession of curses, finally overwhelming poor Lila Bakers. Lee Jordan was next and unfortunately was disarmed straight off, to the gale of Slytherin laughter. Ron didn't have much luck either. He and Natasya Neidenh dueled for fifteen minutes before Neidenh finally got him. Harry had never heard of Natasya's final curse before. 

"Containium!" she shouted. Ron missed the block and waited for something to happen, but nothing noticeable did. He raised his wand and shouted, "Impedimentia!" but nothing happened. Ron tried again, and again no spell issued from his wand. 

"Expelliarmus!" yelled Natasya. 

"And using the Containment curse, Natasya Neidenh blocked Weasley's wand from issuing spells, making the score 3-2, Slytherin. We are now entering the second to last rotation: Slytherin's Sel Volstechy against Gryffindor's youngest competitor, fourth year Rodney Nells." 

Rodney saluted himself into the ring and stared wide-eyed at the six foot, seven inch Volstechy. Rodney swayed, feeling faint, bowed, and raised his wand. 

"Three ... two ... one ... mark," said Dumbledore. 

Volstechy cast a curse that Harry hadn't heard of, but knew it must be bad because Professor McGonagall winced as he screamed it. 

Rodney amazingly blocked it and yelled the first thing that came to mind, "Beautify!" 

The hall fell completely silent as Volstechy underwent a hideous transformation. His ratty hair began to grow, his facial features softened, and as he stood fixed to the spot, his mind racing over the charm Rodney had cast; Rodney disarmed him. 

"And again the score is tied, and doesn't Volstechy make a lovely woman?" 

The hall rang with laughter. Rodney had used a Beautifying Charm, commonly used by women to do hair, make-up, and other essential aspects of making oneself presentable. Volstechy gave a roar of fury and raced out of the ring to Professor Snape, who quickly reversed the charm, glowering at the embarrassment caused to his House. 

The laughter quickly died down and the room silenced itself. In a second the atmosphere had changed dramatically. Before Adrienne's name had been called, she stood up and pulled out her wand. McGonagall cast a nervous glance at her and then to Snape. Snape met her eyes and then shut his. He wasn't sure what was going to happen. Sure, if the spell had worked and Adrienne couldn't finish the duel, Slytherin would win, but he did want to win fairly. And then, if she could finish the duel, Voldemort would be right, and somehow the teachers would have to figure out how to deal with the threat that Adrienne would pose. 

"Adrienne Miles and Roland Montegue, please enter the ring." 

Adrienne saluted herself into the ring and walked to the center, her head held high, her face set. Montegue faced her and glared. Adrienne didn't respond; she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, telling herself that she was going to win. 

"Face your opponent ... bow ... on my mark: three ... two ... one ... mark." 

"Filiaforte!" yelled Montegue. A purple light issued from his wand. Adrienne blocked it easily, shooting back the Furniculous curse. 

Montegue jumped out of the way, raised his wand and shouted, "Sinosidelia!" 

"There's no block for that," whispered Hermione quickly. A red light issued from Montegue's wand. Dumbledore watched intently, seeing Adrienne's eyes narrow and her wand arm fly out. Dumbledore noticed that she was only holding the wand with the tip of her thumb and pointer finger, and her other three fingers were spread open, as if she was holding up the palm of her hand. A jet of black light issued from what looked like her wand, meeting Montegue's curse in midair. Dumbledore adjusted his glasses, and leaned forward in his chair. Neither spell was moving, they were both hovering in mid air, and then something amazing happened. The black light began to move, a circular pattern that spread to encompass the stationary curse that Montegue had sent. Adrienne stood very still, her wand still raised, and in an instant the black light disappeared, along with Montegue's curse. 

"Stupefy!" shouted Adrienne, and a burst of light shot towards Montegue, who crumpled to the ground. 

"And Gryffindor wins the tournament. Did you see that? What kind of spell did she use?" shouted Neville Longbottom. 

Dumbledore stood up suddenly and walked around the table to meet Adrienne as she clumsily exited the ring. Snape and McGonagall followed. 

"Congratulations, Miss Miles," said McGonagall, forcing a smile onto her pale face. 

"You all right, Miss Miles?" asked Snape quietly. 

Adrienne looked at him, struggling to make her eyes focus. "I'm just a little light-headed, that's all," she replied, raising a hand to her head. 

"Could I see your wand for a moment, Adrienne?" asked Dumbledore, reaching for her wand. Adrienne raised an eyebrow but handed him her wand and turned to go sit down. 

"I didn't cast the curse wrong, Headmaster," replied Snape, his eyes following Adrienne back to her seat. 

Dumbledore raised the wand. "Avis," he muttered. The wand didn't do anything. 

"Wingardium Leviosa." Nothing happened. Dumbledore looked up, "The curse worked, the wand's powers are blocked." 

McGonagall shook her head disbelieving. "But that means she just ... she did that ... she didn't use it at all," she stuttered, remembering Adrienne's duel. 

Dumbledore nodded. "That spell she used, to block the Sinosidelia curse," Dumbledore began but Snape interrupted him. 

"But there's no block for that curse." 

Dumbledore turned to look at Adrienne, who had her head on Hermione's shoulder and looked very pale. "Precisely." 


	15. And So it Begins

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 15: And So it Begins**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Adrienne rolled over and squinted as a bright light blocked her vision. She reached out to pull shut her hangings but instead of grabbing the thick curtains, her hand met thin air. She blinked several times and slowly let her eyes adjust to the light. She was in a large room lined with beds made neatly with white linen. 

"I must be in the infirmary," she muttered, sitting up. That wasn't a good idea, and she quickly fell back onto her pillow, dizzy. At that moment a middle-aged lady bustled into the room, carrying a large bottle. 

"You're up I see," the lady said as she drew nearer to the bed. Adrienne looked around the room again. 

"What's the matter, why am I here?" she asked slowly, finally realizing that she wasn't in her school robes but in some god-awful, paper-like, sea-green pajamas. 

"You were ill last night after the dueling tournament. You collapsed about ten minutes afterwards, dearie," said the woman, pulling up a chair. 

"Who are you?" Adrienne asked, a little rudely. The lady smiled. 

"Madam Pomfrey, Miss Miles." Madam Pomfrey reached forward and began to take Adrienne's pulse. "When exactly did you begin feeling ill?" she asked as she reached up and felt Adrienne's forehead. 

Adrienne shut her eyes and tried to envision the previous night. She couldn't remember that much, actually all she could remember was that Gryffindor won. 

"I'm not sure," replied Adrienne, reaching up and pulling her hair off the back of her neck. Madam Pomfrey looked at her curiously. 

"I heard you gave the school quite a show." Adrienne looked down "Well, you seem better than last night; do you still feel dizzy?" 

"A little, when I sit up, but that's all," she replied. 

Madam Pomfrey nodded and stood up. "I told Professor Dumbledore I'd inform him when you woke up; he wants to speak with you." 

Madam Pomfrey gathered some potions bottles from the table next to Adrienne's bed and headed towards a door in the far corner.

Adrienne rolled over onto her side, her mind reeling. She didn't remember much about her duel at all. She didn't remember much about yesterday at all. She shut her eyes and concentrated really hard, but only earned herself a slight headache. Adrienne reopened her eyes and stared into the corner of the room, raising her right hand to block the sun's rays. The triangle on her palm caught her attention and she noticed something very strange: It was shining. 

"Ah, Miss Miles," came a warm voice from behind her, accompanied by the sound of footsteps. Adrienne turned over and pulled her sheets up to her shoulders. Professor Dumbledore sat down in the chair next to her bed and smiled. Adrienne smiled back. 

"That was quite the match, Miss Miles, you should be proud," he said, his eyes twinkling. 

Adrienne's smile faded. "Thank you," she replied, not mentioning that she didn't remember any of it. 

"Professor Hartel has instructed you very well, it is obvious," he continued, leaning back in his chair. "You don't mind if I ask a question though, do you?" 

Adrienne shook her head. "Shoot, Professor." 

Dumbledore smiled. "When exactly did Professor Hartel begin to teach you how to do magic without saying an incantation?" 

Adrienne turned her head slowly so she could see Dumbledore clearly. She pursed her lips and thought for a moment before answering. 

"Professor Hartel never taught me anything like that; I don't think that is even possible anymore Professor," replied Adrienne, looking Dumbledore straight in the eye. 

Dumbledore stared back. "But you must have learned somewhere. You performed some sort of spell before you disarmed Montegue, and you didn't say an incantation, Adrienne," he replied, folding his hands in his lap. 

"You must have just missed it, Professor, I'm sure I said an incantation," replied Adrienne. 

"May I ask you another question?" asked Dumbledore, staring at her intently now. This made Adrienne feel a little uncomfortable but she nodded her consent. "When you duel, how do you decide what blocks, what curses, what charms to use? Do you try and think it out as you go along, rationalizing what would work best, or do you just do something, without really thinking about it." 

"I do think about it, sir, but I do whatever my instincts tell me too," replied Adrienne, not quite understanding where he was going with this.

"So, are you aware of what you are really doing when you duel?" asked Dumbledore, raising his eyebrows slightly.

Adrienne paused to think. "I guess not, I just do it," she replied after a second. 

"That's what I thought. Are you aware, Adrienne, that you performed a spell to block the Sinosidelia curse last night?" asked Dumbledore.

Adrienne laughed. "Right Professor, that's it. There's no spell to block that curse. I think you might be imagining things," replied Adrienne, chuckling. 

Dumbledore smiled. "Well, that is a possibility, but both Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape noticed that also, and I don't think all three of us are imagining the same very interesting event." 

"Professor, I have no idea where you are going with this, but do you actually think I managed to perform a spell that doesn't exist?" asked Adrienne, beginning to speak with her hands. 

Dumbledore's eyes caught her palm, registering the shining triangle imprinted against the ivory skin; his eyes lit up in surprise. Adrienne quickly followed his gaze and shut her fist, breathing in quickly, waiting for the question to come; however, Dumbledore didn't ask anything about her marked hand. 

"Are you sure you are remembering your duel correctly, Adrienne?" he asked, standing up. 

Adrienne raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Positive." 

"Well, I'll let you be then. I hope you feel better," and with that Professor Dumbledore strode towards the door and out of sight. Adrienne breathed a sigh of relief and reopened her fist to steal another look at her palm; she shook her head, amazed: something funny was going on. 

*** * * * ***

Harry, Ron, and Hermione visited Adrienne later that day, and brought her up to date on the dueling tournament news. Adrienne would have preferred to have them stay all day, but Madam Pomfrey insisted they leave at lunch time, because she wanted to examine Adrienne one last time before she released her. Adrienne sighed as her friends walked towards the door, Hermione mumbling something about going to the library. 

*** * * * * **

"Why do we have to go to the library, Hermione?" asked Ron in a whiny sort of voice that reminded Harry of Dudley. Hermione shot him a sharp look and silently made her way to the back of the library to the table they usually claimed as their own. 

"You see," she replied, dropping off her bag and then heading towards a shelf, "I'm going to look up information on dreams." 

"I really, really hate the library, Harry," muttered Ron, "And I'm not looking for any of these books; I don't see the point of this anyway, she just wants an excuse to read 2000 page books written in a forgotten language." 

Harry smiled and turned to a long line of shelves and started walking down the row, tracing his finger along the titles: _The Origins of Magic_, _the First Magician _, _The Rise of Modern Magic_ . Harry continued walking, letting the titles fly blankly past him. Finally, at the end of the row, something caught his interest: _The Introduction of Wands: the End of the Perfect Age_ . 

"The Introduction of Wands, what?" he mumbled, pulling the thick book off the shelf. Dust flew into the air as Harry slowly opened the musty pages. 

"In 402 B.C., the last and final blow to the Perfect Art fell. . ." 

"Boring," muttered Harry, flipping on later into the book. His eyes landed on a picture of a gold snake. 

"The legend of the Golden Serpent," Harry murmured, "this could be interesting." 

*** * * * ***

Albus Dumbledore slowly closed the door to his office. He made his way over to his desk and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill; he needed to write to Sirius. Just as he dipped the tip of the quill into the ink well, someone knocked on his door. 

"Albus, you wanted to see me," came Professor McGonagall's voice. 

"Yes, Minerva, come in." 

Minerva McGonagall opened the door and strode into the room. "What did you find out from Adrienne?" she asked promptly. 

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow in amusement. "And a good evening to you too, Minerva," he chuckled. McGonagall smiled reluctantly and took a seat. "Enough to know that Adrienne Miles died fifteen years ago, and that Adrienne Potter is indeed walking the halls of this school," replied Albus, beginning to write his letter. 

"How can you be positive?" she asked, reaching up and adjusting her glasses as an anxious reflex. 

Dumbledore looked up slowly. "You remember that prophecy, don't you, Minerva?" 

"'They cannot be separated, not even in death, for fate will draw them together. Both ancient and modern magic personified, one will begin the battle but only together can success be achieved. The one thought to be dead will be raised and marked by the symbol of strength. And only when the serpent is held ransom, will the test of wills truly begin,'" recited McGonagall, "How could I forget." 

"'The one thought to be dead will be raised and marked by the symbol of strength.' You know what is on Adrienne's right palm: A triangle, Minerva," replied Dumbledore, "'Both ancient and modern magic personified' ... as we proved last night, Adrienne can do magic without a wand and without incantations, the mark of a Perfect -" 

" - the Ancient wizards," finished McGonagall, "And Harry is almost unbeatable with his wand ... the personification of modern magic." 

"Exactly, and the Golden Serpent has been stolen," added Dumbledore. 

"But it's not being held ransom, no one has asked for anything in order for its return," mused McGonagall. 

"As long as Voldemort has it and we don't, it is being held ransom." 

"But the test of wills, I don't understand that part; what does that mean?" asked McGonagall quietly. Dumbledore looked down. 

"I don't think we want to find out." 

*** * * * ***

"Welcome, my Death Eaters," resounded the Dark Lord's cruel voice. Severus Snape tried desperately not to shudder. 

"It is time. It is time," he murmured, the torchlight flickering off the dark slimy walls and his horrid face. 

"The whole world will know, the whole world will cower before us, like they did before Potter interfered." 

"My Lord, what do you plan on doing?" asked the hooded man standing next to Snape. 

"Lucius, I plan on sending out an invitation," said Voldemort, breaking into an evil smile. 

"An invitation, My Lord?" asked Lucius, in a tone of voice that Snape found quite brave. Voldemort's red eyes flickered with excitement.

"An invitation to the rise of the Dark Order, Lucius, and eventually, when the time is right, to a special little girl. A very special little girl, Lucius." 

Snape swallowed hard; Adrienne had no idea what she was getting into. 


	16. The Golden Serpent

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 16: The Golden Serpent**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

"Estrella brillente." 

"They are the most beautiful," said the Fat Lady, smiling as her portrait swung aside, revealing to Adrienne the massive entrance into Gryffindor Tower. 

Adrienne made her way through the crowded room, bits and pieces of conversations pounding through her head. She scanned the room for Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but figured they were probably still in the library. Adrienne stopped in her tracks, deciding whether she should go down and find them. She again began making her way towards the spiral staircase, deciding that she'd see them tomorrow. 

"Hey Adrienne, we have Transfiguration tomorrow, why don't you sit in the back, away from everyone else, that way we'll be safe," called Parvati as Adrienne walked by the exotic looking girl. Parvati laughed shrilly and leaned over to speak with Lavender, their eyes flitting towards Adrienne. 

Adrienne cast them a sarcastic smile and made her way up the stairs. She paused at the top and looked back down over the crowded common room; this was the first time she'd seen any of them since the dueling tournament, and not one had wished her congratulations. Not one had told her she did a good job. 

"I still think Harry did the best; sure, the new girl did some fancy stuff," came a voice behind her. 

"Well, I'm glad we won, whether she broke the tie or not," came another. 

Adrienne stood still, straining to hear. The voices grew closer. 

"We could have won without her, we don't need some American storming into our school with her dueling title to win for Gryffindor." 

"What kind of spell did she do anyway?" the other girl asked after a quick second. 

"Who knows; she was probably just showing off. I mean, I heard she can't even do basic transfiguration: She once messed up and transfigured McGonagall. And then look at the Quidditch match; she had to go and fall off her broom. I bet it was just for attention." 

The voices were directly behind Adrienne now, but Adrienne still didn't move. Two girls walked past her and began to descend the stairs, not so much as glancing at Adrienne, completely involved in their conversation. As they rounded the curve Adrienne finally saw their faces.

"I don't think she fell on purpose, Monica," said the nicer of the two, a red head, "Ron likes her anyway." 

"Ginny, I don't care. Something about her seems off." 

Adrienne turned and headed for her dormitory, casting a last glance down the hallway before she entered. The dormitory was empty, the curtains open, and the moonlight casting a shadow onto the shiny, newly washed floor. Adrienne walked over to the window and looked up into the dark night sky. 

She was alone, alone in a school that somehow felt like her home, but not. The entire Gryffindor common room was full of people who thought she was trying to take the attention away from Harry Potter. To most of them, she was the American girl who had come to prove her superiority. 

"Ridiculous," Adrienne muttered. 

She was the girl who broke the dueling tie, but yet she couldn't master transfiguration. Adrienne walked over to the tall mirror on the west wall. She stared at herself for several minutes. Her black hair was a little longer than her shoulders now. Her green eyes shone dim in the light; no sparkle danced across them. Her ivory skin looked pale white in the moonlight. She reached up and touched her finger to the mirror, watching her reflection follow her hand. Adrienne shook her head dejectedly; she had a very bad feeling. Her hand slid several inches down the mirror, almost as if it had moved itself. Adrienne slowly looked back into the mirror, lowering her hand. 

In the moonlight, her reflection stared back at her; the same reflection she had always known, but, adorning the mirror now was the faint, but still evident smudge of her finger: The trace of a lightening bolt, right where her forehead was reflected. Adrienne stared into the mirror, her mouth slightly open. Ever so slowly, she raised her hands to her hair. She carefully started pulling back strands, making a very sloppy bun at the top of her head, letting choppy strands fall from it, making her look like if she had a very shaggy boy's haircut. Adrienne stared back into the mirror, strands of her hair hanging sloppily around her face. She blinked, her eyes resting on her reflected forehead. 

"Merlin," she murmured. 

*** * * * * **

"Adrienne?" 

Adrienne didn't move. She lay quietly behind her closed drawings, her school robes still on, her makeup still covering her face, her wand still in her pocket. 

"Adrienne, you awake?" asked Hermione quietly. 

Adrienne didn't answer. Hermione didn't call again, but Adrienne could hear her opening her beside cabinet, no doubt to pull out a pair of pajamas. The muffled shuffle of feet and chatter soon filled the room as the rest of Adrienne's roommates entered. 

"Shhhh, Adrienne's asleep," said Hermione in a loud whisper. 

"Miss America, eh?" asked Parvati loudly, hoping Adrienne would hear. 

"And what do you mean by that, Parvati?" asked Hermione, her voice rising slightly. Adrienne pulled her robes around her tightly. 

"She thinks she's so great. She won the dueling tournament. She made all those goals at the Quidditch match. It's all about her," replied Lavender's distinct airy voice. 

"What are you talking about?" asked Hermione sharply. 

"Adrienne thinks she's better than all of us. She even said that she didn't need the rest of the Gryffindor team; she said that she could defeat anyone here at dueling," said Parvati smugly. 

"And where did you hear that?" 

"Draco. He heard her saying . . ." 

"Draco! As in Draco Malfoy? What are you thinking; he hates all Gryffindors. He's just angry that Slytherin lost; he's lying. You're willing to believe a Slytherin?" asked Hermione exasperatedly. There was silence for a second and then, 

"That's not the point. Look at her in Transfiguration, she's horrible," responded Lavender. Adrienne heard Hermione drop her bag onto the ground. 

"You are just angry because Friday she told you Divination was a huge conspiracy and you were all quacks for buying into it," defended Hermione.

Adrienne lay in bed silently. So, that was what this new Anti-Adrienne campaign was about. First, she offended Parvati and Lavender by discrediting Divination. Secondly, she made poor Draco mad. Adrienne rolled her eyes. 

"So what if I can't do Transfiguration," she muttered, rolling over, "Who needs it anyway?" 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne woke up at her normal time the next morning. She crawled out of bed, shaking her head upon realizing that she had never taken off her school robes. She pulled them over her head and reached under her bed to pull out a crumpled pair of running pants and a top. She sat back on her bed, slipped on a shoe, and stared out the window as she laced it. The sun hadn't begun to rise, but this didn't bother Adrienne: She liked running in the dark. She found it the best way to think, and she needed to think now. 

Adrienne quietly pulled out her trunk, lifted the lid, and rummaged for her Firebolt. She pulled it out, accidentally letting it slam shut. She winced, looking around fervently to see if she woke anyone up. She hadn't. Adrienne walked towards the window and opened it, breathing in the fresh, cold air. She climbed onto the sill, her broom in her hand, and jumped. Adrienne fell, the air whipping her hair straight up, the windows of the floors rushing by her. She pulled herself onto her broom, flew the remainder of the distance to the ground, and landed quietly. She looked around to make sure no one saw her, then carefully hid her broom behind a bush next to the castle wall. Adrienne had taken to always exiting and entering the castle through the window when she went running, so she could avoid the possibility of running into Filch or Mrs. Norris. Adrienne pulled her right leg up behind her, stretching, and shivering slightly.

"I forgot my gloves again!" she moaned as she took off, her feet first moving slowly and then more rapidly, one after another, her eyes straight ahead. She followed the perimeter of the grounds, losing herself in her effort, in her stride. Faster and faster she ran, her breath becoming ragged, her heart pounding inside of her chest. 

Adrienne shook her head, her thoughts drifting back to the conversations from the previous day. What was Dumbledore thinking? Did he actually think she could perform a blocking charm that didn't exist? And where did he get the idea that Professor Hartel had been teaching her to work spells without the incantations. 

"Only Perfects can do that, he should know that," she told herself, quickening her pace. 

Now half the Gryffindors believed that she had a superiority complex. So perhaps she wasn't thrilled at Professor McGonagall being her dueling coach. Perhaps she wasn't thrilled at being a co-Captain even though she had more experience. However, she didn't place herself at a superior level. Sure she could do things others couldn't, but others could do things she could never do. She could never play seeker. She could never ever be a real seer, nor would she ever become an animagi. 

"Ha! Me an animagi ?" she whispered to herself between her rapid breaths, "That would be a disaster." Adrienne's mind slipped back to her inability to do Transfiguration. 

"Remember Adrienne, focus. Your mishaps are from lack of focus, and only you can change that." That was what Professor Hartel had said. Adrienne stopped dead in her tracks, leaning over to catch her breath. Professor Hartel believed in her. Professor Glenn believed in her. Adrienne slowly straightened, a smile breaking onto her face. 

"They'll be surprised when they see me this Christmas," she whispered, vowing to figure out a way to fix her Transfiguration problem. "They won't know me." 

*** * * * * **

"Please take your seats right away; you will need the entire hour for this exam," said Professor McGonagall as the Gryffindors and Slytherins filed into the Transfiguration classroom. Groans sprang up through the class. Adrienne followed Ron towards the table that Hermione and Harry had claimed. Parvati and Lavender walked past them, their heads held high. 

"New divination technique? The higher the air you breathe, the smarter you get?" asked Adrienne calmly. "If you were that worried about the exam, maybe you should have studied, or do you already know what's on this exam, oh Goddesses of the Future?" 

Lavender and Parvati shot her an evil look and took seats in the back saying loudly, "I think it would be best if we did this exam in France, Professor, I think we'll be safe from Adrienne there." 

Professor McGonagall looked at them, her lips thinning and her eyes narrowing, and the smirks melted right off of Lavender's and Parvati's faces. Adrienne leaned back in her chair smiling, 'stupid frauds.' 

"For your exam you are to transfigure the object I have written on your scroll," said Professor McGonagall, and with a flick of her wand, rolled scrolls appeared in front of each student. 

"Now, none of these transfigurations can be done right away. You will have to do several to get the desired result; begin now, and no discussion, or I'll give you a zero." 

Adrienne slowly pulled out her wand and set it next to her scroll. She looked down, and closed her eyes, concentrating. What to concentrate on? That was a problem, and after a minute or so, Adrienne decided to concentrate on picturing the transfiguration actually happening, because if she could do it in her mind, she might actually be able to do it for real. 

Professor McGonagall sat at her desk quietly, a pile of parchment in her hands. She watched with amusement as Hermione Granger flew through transfigurations left and right, finally, finishing and placing her finished product, a sapphire, at the edge of her table. McGonagall turned her attention to Harry next to her, who had one eyebrow raised and his head cocked, as if he were finding the weakest point of his scroll, which he was supposed to transfigure into a yellow and pink spotted beetle. 

In the back, Parvati had her hands raised in the air, her fingertips touching, and she was silently chanting something; Lavender was doing the same. Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes, 'do those two girls have to consult their inner eye before doing every single transfiguration?' 

McGonagall turned her attention to Draco, who was hunched over his paper, his eyes sweeping the room, no doubt trying to see how the other students were doing their exam. McGonagall almost laughed, almost; hadn't he realized yet that there was no possible way to cheat on a Transfiguration exam? 

She turned her eyes back to the right side of the room, to Adrienne, who was still sitting silently, her eyes shut, her face relaxed, her wand lying on the table next to her still unopened scroll. McGonagall adjusted her glasses to see Adrienne better, dearly hoping that Adrienne wouldn't mess up again. She shuddered remembering her brief stint as a newt, 'thank goodness Miss Granger knew what to do, or I could have been like that for a while.' 

'I can do this,' Adrienne told herself. She opened her eyes, and reached for her scroll, unrolling it, her hands trembling slightly. In Professor McGonagall's clean handwriting were the words, "porcelain china plate with a checkerboard pattern of blue and pink." 

"Great," she muttered, picking up her wand. She couldn't just transfigure her parchment. They had been studying Step Transfiguration, Transfiguration that consists of multiple steps to get from one object to another. 

"The first step," Adrienne whispered, gripping her wand tightly, "get checks, hmm, how about a checkerboard." Adrienne raised her wand, 'focus now,' she reminded herself. She shut her eyes, picturing an image of checkerboard and flicked her wand. She waited a few seconds and then opened one eye, and then the other, staring in disbelief. There in front of her was a checkerboard, a perfect checkerboard. No slime, no newts, no quicksand, no smoke, no anything... just a checkerboard. 

Adrienne pointed her wand at the center of the board, 'next, blue and pick colors.' She shut her eyes, restoring the image of the checkerboard in her mind, and changing the black to a light blue and the red to a light pink, flicking her wand for a second time. This time she opened her eyes after great hesitation, not believing that she would be able to pull of two uneventful transfigurations in a row. The fact that no one had screamed and no loud bangs had accompanied the flicking of her wand, prompted her to slowly opened her eyes. In front of her was now a blue and pink checkerboard. 

Professor McGonagall sat at her desk, shocked, her wand hanging limply in her hand; she didn't think she'd need it this time, Adrienne actually had things under control. She watched as Adrienne closed her eyes for a third time. A look of hesitation streaked across Adrienne's face, but then, as Professor McGonagall leaned forward in anticipation, Adrienne's wand-hand flicked again, and a blue and pink checked porcelain plate appeared. Professor McGonagall reached across her desk for her grade book, found the name Miles, now followed by the name added in pencil (Potter) and wrote - 100%. 

*** * * * ***

"I can't believe I did that you guys!" exclaimed Adrienne as she, Ron, Hermione, and Harry sat around their usual table in the back of the Gryffindor common room. 

"I can't believe it either," replied Harry softly. 

Adrienne threw a crumpled piece of parchment at him. "You shut up. You're only jealous that you've never transfigured such a gorgeous plate before," she replied her eyes narrowed in a playful way. 

Harry glared at her. "Right, like I need to transfigure a plate when I can transfigure a beetle that looks like it walked under a painter's easel?" he shot back, lobbing the parchment back at her. 

"All right, you are acting like children," interrupted Hermione. 

"Yeah, you fight like brother and sister," added Ron, looking up from his Potions essay. Professor Snape had assigned them a very nasty essay on the uses of Yeltsrup Plants in sleeping potions. Harry smiled at Ron's remark, raising his eyebrows. 

"Maybe we are, Ron," he said jokingly. Adrienne stopped smiling quickly and looked down. She looked back up at Harry who winked at her. She stared at him for a second, remembering her image in the mirror the previous night and the Sorting Hat: 'Do you know who you are?' 

"Is something the matter?" asked Hermione, reading the quick change in Adrienne's expression. Adrienne looked at her, breaking into a large smile, raising her eyes to the ceiling. 

"No, what could possibly be the matter? I just got my first perfect score on a Transfiguration exam!" she responded, hoping that she sounded convincing. She must have because Hermione smiled her congratulations and turned back to her essay. 

Silence slowly fell over the common room as, one by one, students made their way to their dormitories. By midnight only Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Adrienne were left. 

"It's different when it's so quiet," said Adrienne as she put her finishing touches on her Potions essay. 

"It's better when it's quiet," answered Hermione, who had just finished her essay also. 

"It's so serene," sighed Adrienne. 

Ron looked at her and rolled his eyes "Why do girls always like it quiet; I like it noisy!" he said and Hermione shook her head, smiled, and pulled her curly hair back into a pony-tail. 

TAP. TAP. TAP. 

The group looked around the various windows to see who would be delivering post this late. A few windows down, a white owl fluttered in the growing wind. 

"Hedwig?" exclaimed Harry, squinting and jumping up to let his beloved owl in. It was indeed Hedwig, a very wet and wind tousled Hedwig. 

"What are you doing here?" asked Harry as he opened the window. 

She flew in, and Harry, with great effort, pushed the window shut. He shook his head to get some of the rain out of his hair as he made his way back to the table. Hedwig was sitting in front of his desk, looking very bedraggled. 

"Who sent me a letter?" he asked, reaching for the parchment attached to her leg. Once he unhooked it, he slowly unrolled it and began reading. 

"It's from… Snuffles," he said right away. Adrienne looked up, intrigued, but no further information was provided into the identity of the sender. 

"What does he say?" asked Hermione, worry flying across her face. 

_Dear Harry,   
I'm sorry I haven't written in so long, but as you know I have been on errands for Professor Dumbledore. Thanks for all the letters from America. I'm glad you loved the Gallows, that was your mother's favorite place. She'd go there all the time to shop; I think James got a little sick of it after a while. Well, I don't have much I can tell you, but some odd things have been happening. _

You haven't by any chance heard that the Golden Serpent disappeared, did you? That has the Ministry in a right flap, but Fudge won't accept that Voldemort took it - all evidence points to him. I'm not quite sure about the significance of this; Dumbledore knows more than he is telling me. 

I just wanted to tell you that I'm going to be in the area for quite a while, so we can talk then. Keep your eyes out for old Snuffles, and remember food. Food is good. Congratulations on your dueling win, and say hi to Ron and Hermione. Keep safe, 

Snuffles 

"What's the Golden Serpent?" asked Ron right after Harry finished reading. Harry looked up quickly. 

"Oh, I found a book about that in the library yesterday. There's some kind of legend about it. It was made by some kind of wizard called a Perfect," Harry explained, folding up the letter. 

"A Perfect?" asked Ron. 

"They were a small sect of very powerful ancient wizards who could do magic without a wand. The Perfect Art was the original art of magic. What we practice isn't as powerful and it's known as modern magic. The Perfects practiced ancient magic, and the last one died over three thousand years ago," said Hermione causally as if this was common knowledge. 

"Oh," was all Ron said. 

"And this Perfect was the last one, so, he placed all the Perfect knowledge - because like we learn magic, the Perfects had to learn how to use their powers - into a pendent that was shaped as a Golden Serpent. The legend is, when a true Perfect wears it, all the knowledge of the Perfect Arts will be transferred to the wearer. But, if someone who isn't a Perfect puts it on, and places his hands against those of the Perfect, all the knowledge will be transferred to the wearer of the necklace," continued Harry. 

"So," prompted Ron. 

"So, if the other person were evil, and a very powerful wizard, he could learn the Perfect Art and use the power for evil instead of good. Perfects who practiced ancient dark magic were known as dark Accabadians," answered Adrienne. 

"So basically, this Golden Serpent holds the only way for a Perfect to access all their powers?" asked Ron. 

"Basically," replied Harry. 

"Why would You-Know-Who want it?" asked Adrienne quietly. 

"Well, if he could get the Perfect to allow him access to the information, he'd be more powerful than anyone. He'd be undefeatable. Not even the Perfect would stand a chance against him because the Perfect would never learn how to correctly use his powers," said Hermione, her face screwn up in thought. 

"So You-Know-Who must think that there is a Perfect in existence today," mused Ron. 

Hermione nodded. "But that would mean the Perfect would have to consent to allowing him access to the information, and I don't think anyone except his Death Eaters would want to help him." 

Harry's mind flipped back to the graveyard from last year. He shuddered at the thought of Voldemort getting even more stronger. Voldemort had risen through the help of him, Harry; he hadn't wanted to help, but he hadn't had a choice. Harry looked around the table. 

"Knowing Voldemort, the Perfect won't have a choice." 

This comment was met with silence. Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her chair and Ron looked down. Adrienne didn't move, she just sat there shivering. 


	17. Celians

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 17: Celians**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

"Quidditch practice is now officially over!" called Professor McGonagall as she strode across the snow-covered Hogwarts lawn, a look of livid anger inhabiting her face. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and her glasses glinting threateningly in the moonlight. 

"Miss Spinnet, I'm ashamed of you! You knew very well that there is a curfew of all students being inside the castle before sunset. It's much later than sunset!" she yelled, now walking across the Quidditch pitch. 

Alicia Spinnet turned around in the air and cast a depressing glance at Harry before she made her descent. She quickly jumped off her broom, and took a deep breath before turning to face her professor. Professor McGonagall stopped in front of her and placed her hands on her hips, staring at Alicia, waiting for an explanation. 

"I, um, well, we needed the practice," stuttered Alicia, looking up hopefully into Professor McGonagall's face, praying that her aspirations for Gryffindor taking the House Cup again this year would calm her temper. 

"This is not a negotiable curfew, Miss Spinnet, whether you're team captain or not. The Quidditch team does not receive exemption from school rules. This is not a safe time for you to be out gallivanting around in the dark, especially without supervision," she continued. 

The rest of the team made their descent, toppling off into the grass behind Alicia. Fred and George walked up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulders for moral support. McGonagall's eyes moved towards Harry, who had just landed, and then to Adrienne, who flew by him, flipping the hair on the back of his head. He turned and tried to grab her, glaring; she flew out of the way and landed safely several feet to the right. McGonagall turned back to Alicia. 

"Come on, back to the castle," said McGonagall, deciding not to punish them, this time. She turned and headed back to the castle, the image of Adrienne and Harry still in her mind. They had missed out on so much, it just wasn't fair. 

"Professor McGonagall?" 

McGonagall paused at the top of the stone entrance steps, holding one of the great oak doors open. She turned. The team was filing up the lawn, dejected and annoyed expressions gracing each of their faces. Harry Potter ran up the steps towards her. 

"Where's your broomstick, Mr. Potter?" she asked as he neared the top. Harry flung a hand aimlessly behind him. 

"Adrienne has it for me." He paused next to her. "I had a question, Professor," he said, following her into the Entrance Hall. 

"Yes?" Professor McGonagall walked quickly towards her study, Harry beside her; it seemed that over the years his legs had grown dramatically and she was much easier to keep up with now. 

"Well, I was wondering, what position did my dad play?" he asked as they reached her study. She stopped, her wand out, ready to unlock the door. She turned to look at him and offered a weak smile. 

"He was a chaser, Harry, and the best I've seen in a long time. You think Adrienne is good? She's nothing compared to him," she said, and turned back towards her door, flicked her wand, and reached for the knob. "Any particular reason, Potter?" 

Harry shook his head. "I was just wondering, that's all." 

McGonagall opened her door and hesitated, finally stepping back and motioning for Harry to enter her office. Harry looked at her questioningly but followed her unspoken direction. 

Professor McGonagall's office was warm and cozy. A flickering fire was lit in the grate. Portraits painted by Muggle painters such as Monet were hung on her walls. Large bookcases graced other parts of the room, old and new books adding to the professional mannerisms of the room that so reflected McGonagall's personality. McGonagall followed Harry into her study and shut the door behind her. 

"Take a seat, Mr. Potter," she said, motioning towards a large red chair seated before her oak desk. Harry sat down into the plush chair. 

"Do you, by any chance, know what today is, Harry?" she asked quietly as she strode over to a large bookcase behind her desk. 

"No, Professor, am I supposed to?" he asked. 

Professor McGonagall didn't answer right away. She was running her finger along the spines of the books on one of the shelves. Finally, she found the one she was looking for and pulled it from the multitudes. She pulled out her chair and took a seat, setting the book onto her desk. She looked at him over her glasses. 

"This was your parent's anniversary, Harry; how much do you know about your parents?" she asked calmly, opening the book and flipping through pages, obviously looking for something. Harry looked at her curiously and leaned back in his chair. 

"Not that much," he replied regretfully, unconsciously clasping his hands together in his lap. 

"Sirius hasn't told you very much then?" she asked, a trace of surprise showing on her face. Harry sat bolt in his chair, his mouth slightly open, his eyes wide in surprise. "Are you wondering how I know about Sirius?" she asked, a smug smile appearing at the corners of her mouth. 

"Professor Dumbledore explained everything to me over the summer, Potter, everything. And I must say, between what you did your third year and what you did last year, I can safely say your parents would be prouder then they ever dreamed possible." Harry didn't respond. McGonagall stared at him intently, reading the surprised look mingled with a disbelieving one. 

"Professor Dumbledore was not the only one close to your parents, Potter," McGonagall continued. "I remember them quite well; actually, I remember them better than any other students I've ever taught. Your mother was my very favorite student, and the brightest, yes, brighter than Miss Granger." Harry smiled slightly, wondering how smart his mother could have been; he didn't think there was an intelligence capability beyond which Hermione possessed. 

"Yes, Lily Evans, that was her maiden name, Evans. Oh did she make me laugh," said McGonagall, a sad expression beginning to haunt her face. 

"She was a troublemaker, too?" asked Harry, finally finding his tongue. He shook his head disbelievingly. 

McGonagall laughed slightly. "Who, Lily? Not at all, but she was the funniest. She was the voice of reason. We always knew when your father, Sirius, Remus, and Peter (she said this last name with a tone full of pure hatred) were about to pull a stunt, because she'd walk around the castle shaking her head and mumbling about how they'd for sure be expelled this time. She took everything so seriously. She was an excellent dueler though, it's quite obvious where you two get that talent," she suddenly quit speaking, realizing what she had just said. Harry looked at her quizzically, his eyebrows raising promptly. 

"You two?" he asked slowly, "What does that mean?" 

McGonagall's face reddened and she quickly started looking through the book again. 

"Oh, I just meant you, Potter, but I was thinking about the dueling team as a whole - you're abilities, from her - they instill a sense of unity in the group, yes, that's it," she said this as if she was trying very hard to think of something to say. Harry didn't respond. 

"Yes, she was quite a dueler." She looked up from her book now and smiled. "You have seen pictures, correct?" she asked. 

"Hagrid gave me a photo album of their wedding day during my first year," he replied, his mind still having trouble with the fact that she had said 'you two.' 

"This was the yearbook from their seventh year, it has their Head Boy and Girl pictures; would you like to see it?" she asked, picking up the book and handing it to Harry. Harry stood up and took it from her. He placed it on his legs and stared at the picture. 

His mother and father stared back at him, their Head Boy and Head Girl badges gleaming from the flash. They waved at him. They looked different from the wedding picture; a lot more naïve Harry thought, a lot more innocent. His mother had her hair pulled up in a messy, but fashionable bun on the top of her head, several strands pulled down to frame her face. His father had his arm around her, his characteristic, messy hair standing up all over the place, a huge smile plastered onto his mischievous face. Harry smiled. 

"They look wonderful," he said quietly, taking in a deep breath, wishing he could remember them. 

"That was right before they left," McGonagall sighed, leaning back in her chair. Harry looked up at her, a question he had been wondering ever since he could remember, pressing to escape. 

"What did they do, Professor?" he asked, standing up and placing the open book onto her desk. Professor McGonagall looked down onto the picture and smiled at the two 17 year olds. 

"They had very special jobs, Harry," she said, looking up at him. "Voldemort was becoming more and more powerful, and there was a need for a stronger defense against him. The aurors just couldn't keep up. Your parents, along with Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher, and several others became our new defense. They were members of a secret Ministry program, headed by Professor Dumbledore and Mad-Eye Moody. I remember when your parents were asked to join. They had wanted to be Aurors; I think they got more than they bargained for. Your parents, Harry, were Celians, top-level Ministry spies and infiltrators. Your parents caught more Death Eaters during their career than any other, save for after Voldemort's fall," McGonagall added this last part cautiously. 

"They were spies?" Harry asked. His mind began racing with this new and amazing thought, 'my parents were spies!' 

"They weren't just spies, Harry, they were the best we had, the best we've ever had, and most likely the best we will ever have. They were the best team, inseparable, loyal, and fearless. They were always willing to sacrifice for the good of the cause. No matter what the job, they never backed down, never gave up. They kept that up for five years, and then your mother decided to retire; I think she found her new job more appealing," continued McGonagall. 

"Oh was she so happy when she found out she was pregnant; we were one of the firsts to know. She just burst into school one day, after some ambush in a forest, a large smile plastered onto her face. We could tell right away; she just glowed. And your father, he just stood there behind her, half embarrassed, but still thoroughly ready to shout that he was going to be a dad," McGonagall wiped a tear from her eye. 

"And then after you were born, she showed you off like you were the Hope Diamond. You were her angel; you were the future she had been fighting for for the last five years, and your mother was determined to protect you, Harry. She was twenty-three and had seen more things than anyone should ever see in their lifetime. She had so many plans, so many things to teach you," McGonagall stopped talking for a moment. It was obvious to Harry that she must have been close to his mother. She took a deep breath and continued. "Your father, he continued working until your first birthday, then he retired too." 

"What do you mean retire?" asked Harry. McGonagall laughed. 

"Your parents had possibly the most dangerous job in the world; what they made for a living was definitely hazard pay. I assume you've seen your bank account: Your parents made enough in five years to last them a lifetime, Harry. After five years of fighting the Dark Arts, they only wanted to spend the rest of their lives raising a family, and they did that Harry; you had the best family anyone could have asked for." 

Harry sat quietly, thinking of what his parent must have gone through. They were at the frontlines of the battle against Voldemort for five years. It was ironic, they survived being spies, but then died in their own home. Harry shook his head, not understanding why McGonagall had told him this. McGonagall seemed to be able to read his mind because as soon as he thought this she began speaking again. 

"Your past has many interesting avenues, Harry, and they will keep surfacing until you know all there is to know," she was staring intently at him now, as if she was trying to tell him something beyond her words. 

"Do you ever wonder what is on the other side of a mirror?" she asked, rising from her chair and walking towards the window. She looked out over the dark land, wishing Dumbledore hadn't made her promise not to tell Harry and Adrienne they were related. She figured he had his reasons, but she didn't know what they were. She smiled slightly; she didn't have to tell them, she'd just give Harry a clue - all Potter needed was a push in the right direction. 

"What's on the other side of a mirror?" asked Harry, slightly confused. "No, Professor, I can honestly say that thought has never crossed my mind." 

Professor McGonagall turned to look at him. "Maybe it should, Potter, maybe it should." 

*** * * * * **

When Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room he found it completely empty save for three quiet voices coming from the high backed chairs facing the fireplace. At the sound of the portrait door clicking shut, the three materialized from behind their chairs. 

"What took you so long?" asked Adrienne, standing up and walking towards him. "I had Ron put your Firebolt in your dormitory; I'd have done it myself but I figured I might get more than I bargained for, ya know?" 

Harry shook his head and smiled. "Thanks, I was talking with Professor McGonagall," he said, making his way over to the fireplace and taking Adrienne's chair. Adrienne made a face and tried to pull him out, but he held his ground. 

"Adrienne, I'm not moving; you got up from it," replied Harry. 

"Too much effort anyway," she mumbled and slid down into a straddle-split. 

"That's disgusting Adrienne, oh yuck, you're not supposed to do that, it's so unnatural," said Hermione, shivering slightly. Adrienne just grinned, reached her hands out in front of her, and walked her torso towards the ground. Ron looked at her, sitting there in the splits, her upper body and head resting on the ground in front of her; he smiled and wondered what other contortions she knew. Adrienne turned her head so she could look at Harry. 

"What you talk about with McGonagall?" she asked. Harry made a somewhat disgusted face. 

"She told me some interesting things," he replied, bending down slightly and looking and Adrienne, perplexed. "Doesn't that hurt?" 

"Nah, it's quite comfortable actually - want to try?" she asked, a mischievous grin engulfing her face. Harry stared at her for a second; he had seen that smile before ... it reminded him of the smile his dad was wearing in the picture. 

"Oh come on, Harry," said Adrienne, sitting up and pulling her legs in front of her, "It's good to stretch ... keeps your muscles in good shape." 

Harry shook his head slightly. "No, I'm fine Adrienne, really," he raised his eyebrows at Hermione who laughed. She stood up and walked over, sitting down onto his lap and leaning back against him. Harry smiled and reached up to play with her hair, it smelt like roses. He shut his eyes and took in the moment: It was his parents' anniversary, he had just found out more about them, and he had the one person he had ever truly loved sitting in his lap. 

*** * * * * **

'What's on the other side of a mirror?' Harry asked himself as he was brushing his teeth. He stared at his reflection. 

"Nothing," he muttered and spit out the toothpaste. He wiped his mouth off and stared back into the mirror. 

'Maybe I'm missing something,' he thought. 

He climbed up onto the counter, touched the glass with his hands, and started absentmindedly tracing triangles with his fingers, wondering what exactly McGonagall had meant. He sat back onto his heels, being careful not to topple off backwards, and pressed his palms up against the glass. His familiar reflection stared back at him. His green eyes sparkled beneath his glasses. His old scar, the color red, underneath his messy hair. 

"The other side of a mirror; why, it's just a reflection," he told himself as he jumped off the counter and made his way towards the bathroom door, which he shut tightly behind him. 

*** * * * * **

The same moon that lit the mirrors also lit the dark sky, illuminating all movement against the snow-covered ground. While the rest of Hogwarts slept, a large shaggy dog slowly slinked across the grounds, heading for a familiar tree. He pressed the knot on the Whomping Willow and entered. Sirius Black walked the rest of the way to the Shrieking Shack as a man. 


	18. Formals, Holidays, and Babies

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 18: Formals, Holidays, and Babies**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

"Before you go," started Professor McGonagall, raising her voice above the din the ravenous students were creating in their efforts to escape for lunch. "I have an announcement." 

The students queuing at the door turned. 

"In celebration of Valentines Day this year, the professors have decided to sponsor a Muggle formal." 

"A what?" called someone hidden behind the multitudes of impatient students. Several girls throughout the room began talking at once, while those who had barely any idea about Muggle social practices, such as Draco and Ron, stared dumbly 

"A Muggle formal ... a dance," answered Professor McGonagall. Harry noticed that again, just as last year, she didn't look particularly thrilled about this. 

"Since it is themed after a Muggle formal, dress robes are not required and you can wear traditional Muggle suits and gowns." 

"You want us to dress as Muggles?" snapped Draco, rudely, a look of complete disgust on his already hideous face. 

"Of course you don't have to, but if you want, the option is open," said Professor McGonagall, clearly thinking that this open option could only present problems, especially as she wasn't quite sure what Muggle formal attire actually was. 

"What's a formal?" asked Ron quietly to Harry as they made their way out of the classroom, Hermione and Adrienne giggling behind them. Harry turned his head slightly. 

"Girls wear big pouffy dresses and guys wear black suits," he said. 

Ron raised an eyebrow, "suits?" 

"Suits, oh come on, you've seen suits before," said Harry as they entered neared the Entrance Hall. 

Ron screwed up his face in thought. "Nope, not suits, at least I don't think so," he replied. 

Harry stopped walking. "You know those pictures of my parents' wedding?" he asked. Ron nodded. "The black jacket and pants my dad was wearing, that's a suit," finished Harry. 

Ron thought for a moment, trying to picture it. "Oh, we have to wear one of those? That's a little dressy, don't you think?" he finally replied. 

The two boys continued walking, almost making their way to the Great Hall; however, they were, or at least Ron was, distracted by a black-haired witch. Adrienne quietly walked up next to Ron and put a hand gently onto his shoulder. She smiled and stepped up on her toes to whisper in his ear. 

"Well, Ron, how about you taking me to this formal?" she asked in a low voice. Ron jumped. 

"Hermione?" asked Harry quietly and motioned for Hermione to come talk to him. 

"Oh, that? Well, I told her he gets tongue-tied, so she just said she'd ask him herself," replied Hermione, knowing exactly what Harry was going to ask her. Harry smiled and looked back over at them: Ron was beat red and was saying something Harry couldn't hear, but he didn't need to because right away Adrienne stepped back onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. 

"So, planning on asking me?" asked Hermione softly, grabbing Harry's arm and spinning him around to face her. He looked down into her eyes and put on a thoughtful face. 

"Hmm . . .I'll have to give that one some thought," he said quietly. 

"Ugh!" gasped Hermione and pushed him away. "I see how it is," she said, her eyes narrowing playfully. 

Harry laughed. "Of course I was planning on asking you, Hermione, who else would I ask? So, what do you say?" he asked. 

Hermione put her hands on her hips and tried fruitlessly to glare at him. "Well, now I'm not so sure," she began, but Harry interrupted her. 

"Playing hard to get are we?" he asked. He stepped forward, put his arm around her shoulder, and steered her into the Great Hall. 

*** * * * ***

"Tickets?" asked Hermione as she fell backwards onto Adrienne's bad. 

"Check," replied Adrienne pulling an envelope from her open bedside cabinet. 

"Holiday assignments and books?" 

In response, Adrienne dropped a large pile of textbooks into her trunk. 

"Check." 

"Clothes?" 

"How many pairs do you think I need?" asked Adrienne, rummaging through her cabinet. Hermione sat up. 

"Well, you can always wash them, so only take about a weeks worth, that way you'll have less stuff to carry." 

Adrienne stood up, nodding her head. "You're a genius, Hermi!" 

Hermione rolled her eyes and lay back down. 

"What are you doing, Hermione? Taking a break? We have work to do!" snapped Adrienne in mock exasperation. 

"I feel like a mother," sighed Hermione, rolling over and crawling across the bed on her stomach to hang her head off the side where Adrienne stood. 

"Ok, your wand, don't forget your wand," she said. 

"Oh yeah," replied Adrienne, searching her pockets for her wand and tossing it into her trunk. Adrienne turned back to her cabinet and began tossing things overhead in the general direction of her slowly filling trunk. 

"Adrienne, I don't think you need your school robes," sighed Hermione. She rolled off the bed, walked towards the open trunk and pulled out the now crumpled black robes. 

"Right, forgot," muttered Adrienne, sticking her head into her cabinet to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything she'd need. 

"I'm leaving my Firebolt here. I promised Ron he could use it while I'm gone," said Adrienne, her voce muffled from being inside the cabinet. 

"Oh yeah, Christmas presents," she said, yanking out her head and whacking the back of it in the process. 

"Ouch, stupid thing!" she yelled, rubbing her head and glaring at her cabinet as if it had maliciously attacked her. Finally, after most of the pain had subsided, she flattened herself out on her stomach and reached under her bed. After a second, she pulled out three wrapped presents. 

"These are for you guys, Hermi; this blue one here, that's yours, the green is Ron's and the one in red is Harry's. Could you give 'em out on Christmas for me?" Adrienne asked, handing the packages to Hermione. 

"You didn't have to get us anything, Adrienne," she said as she took the packages. 

Adrienne shrugged her shoulders. "But I wanted to. It is so hard to shop when you can't leave the castle, gosh." 

Hermione looked at her. "Yeah, how did you manage that?" 

"Professors Glenn and Hartel, I sent them my list and they got the stuff at the Gallows and set it to me," said Adrienne, standing up and looking at her packed trunk. 

"I can't believe it's already Christmas, Hermi!" said Adrienne quietly, sitting down on her bed. Hermione put the refolded black robes in Adrienne's cabinet and then sat down next o her. 

"I know. You know what, Adrienne?" she said, leaning back onto her elbows. 

"Hmm." 

"I'm going to miss you," said Hermione quietly. Adrienne leaned back and smiled. 

"I'm going to miss you too, Hermi." 

"Good thing it's only three weeks." 

"This has to be the first time I'm counting down the days of vacation, usually I'm always wishing they were longer," said Adrienne, staring up into the maroon canopy above her. Hermione looked up too and the two girls lay there in silence. 

*** * * * ***

"I can't believe she's leaving tomorrow," moaned Ron, collapsing onto his bed. 

Harry looked up from the present he was wrapping for Adrienne. He hadn't really know what to get her, but after much deliberation with Hermione, he had settled on a book entitled, "Chasing the Chasers: A Look at Britain's most famous Chasers." 

"She's not leaving forever, Ron. She'll be back, and just think, she needs time to go buy her gown. It'll be worth the wait to see the girl of your dreams looking like an angel at the dance," said Harry, reaching up and brushing his unruly hair out of his eyes. 

"Yeah, I guess so," said Ron sullenly. "How though is Hermione getting her gown?" 

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "She says she already has one and that her parents are going to send it." 

Ron pulled himself off the bed and strode over to the window. 

"Where exactly are we getting suits, Harry?" he asked, while watching the sun set over the misty mountains in the distance. 

Harry looked up quickly; he hadn't thought of that. "That could pose a problem." 

*** * * * ***

"Now this check-in business," began Adrienne, pulling on a pair of jeans. 

"You go up to the reservation counter. You check your trunk, follow the person's orders, and then find your gate," answered Hermione, tossing Adrienne a scarlet sweater, which she pulled on quickly. 

"That's all. I don't need to do anything else?" 

"Nope. First time flying alone?" 

"Not really, I flew here alone, but my Professors did all that business stuff for me. I just stood aside and watched all the Muggles." 

Adrienne walked over to the mirror and carefully pulled her hair back into a loose braid. 

"And the train leaves at eight?" she asked, turning and walking over to her trunk to check one last time that she wasn't forgetting anything. 

"Adrienne, we finished packing yesterday, don't worry," said Hermione, as their dormitory door slammed shut. The other girls in the dormitory were running in and out, all preparing to leave for the holidays. Hermione was the only one in the room staying. 

"All right then," said Adrienne finally, clasping her hands to her hips, "I'm ready to go." 

"I hope you don't expect to sit with us?" sneered Parvati as she walked into the room, her wet hair still wrapped in a towel. Adrienne glared at her. 

"And risk catching your disease? I should think not," replied Adrienne coolly, reaching down and heaving her heavy trunk into the air. 

"Hermi, could you get the door for me?" she called. Parvati and Lavender watched with pure loathing as Adrienne walked out of the room, Hermione right behind. 

"Wouldn't it be great if she just didn't come back?" asked Parvati wistfully once she and Lavender were alone in the room. 

"We wouldn't be that lucky," sighed Lavender. 

*** * * * ***

Harry and Ron were waiting in the common room for Adrienne and Hermione; they had just made up their minds to sneak up to their dormitory and tell them to hurry up when the two girls appeared at the top of the stairs. 

"Hey you guys! Happy first day of vacation!" called Adrienne as she began her descent, her trunk partially blocking her view. 

"We were beginning to think you two had gone back to bed," grumbled Ron, standing up with the intention of helping Adrienne with her trunk; however, he wasn't quick enough. 

"Impatient this morning are w. . .ahh!" Adrienne's foot missed a step and in an instant both she and her trunk were in the air. With a mighty sequence of thumps, her trunk made it to the bottom of the stairs, Adrienne right behind, toppling helplessly the rest of the way down. 

Hermione rushed down after her and Harry and Ron ran over to the motionless girl. 

"Adrienne?" asked Ron quietly, poking her shoulder gently. 

"Hmm?" she moaned, pulling her face off the ground and looking around at her friends. 

"Are you all right?" asked Hermione, reaching down to help her up. Adrienne rolled over onto her back and slowly sat up. 

"Well, had to leave a last impression before I left ... I guess; however, falling down the stairs? Not the kind of last impression I quite had in mind," she mumbled, visibly embarrassed. 

She stood up and brushed of her clothing, even though they were perfectly clean. She looked up and cast her friends a silly smile and began to laugh. At first Hermione just looked at her, there in her Muggle clothing, still brushing off invisible dirt from her clothes, laughing hysterically; then Hermione joined in. Soon the four were laughing, clutching their stomachs and gasping for air. 

"That was priceless, 'Impatient this morning are w. . ahh!'" joked Ron. Adrienne stopped laughing to speak. 

"From hence forth, Adrienne Miles is now the amazing tumbling American," she giggled. 

Hermione shook her head and forced herself to stop laughing. "You sure you're not hurt though, Adrienne?" she asked, "That was some fall." 

"Of course not. What time is it?" Adrienne asked suddenly, remembering that she had to catch the Hogwarts' Express. Harry looked down at the new watch he had purchased while in the states. 

"7:20, you sure you're not going to eat breakfast?" he asked. "You still have time to grab some toast." 

Adrienne shook her head. "No way, I'm going to buy some pizza at the airport; you have no idea how much I miss pizza!" she exclaimed, smirking, "I'm going to eat every piece there - you watch!" Adrienne walked back over to her trunk and turned it right-side up again. 

"I got you guys presents," she called behind her. "I gave them to Hermi, so she can keep 'em safe until Christmas." 

At this, Ron cast a furtive glance at Harry, who quietly walked over to a chair and from the seat drew out two beautifully wrapped presents. 

"We got you something also, Adrienne, for Christmas," Harry added, indicating that he didn't want her opening them now. He knew that as an orphan, Christmas presents were few, and he wanted to make sure she'd have more than usual this year. Adrienne got the hint and took the two presents smiling. 

"The blue one's from me," said Ron, blushing a deep maroon color. 

"And the red one's from me," added Harry, not letting go of the presents until he was sure Adrienne had a firm grip on them. 

"Thanks guys!" she exclaimed, "I can't wait until I open them." Adrienne strode over to her trunk, took out a key, and unlocked it. 

"I already put your present in there, Adrienne," said Hermione, walking up next to her. 

After making sure everything was arranged properly, Adrienne relocked the lid and turned back to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, tears welling in her eyes. 

"Oh my goodness! I feel like I'm leaving forever," she exclaimed. Hermione gave her a hug. 

"Only three weeks," she whispered, "And don't forget to buy a gown." 

Adrienne smiled. "Wouldn't want to disappoint anyone in particular would I?" she whispered back. Adrienne pulled out of her embrace and reached down to pick up her trunk. 

"I suppose I'd better go down to the Entrance Hall, don't want those coaches to leave without me," she said, shifting her grip slightly on her trunk, trying not to laugh as she watched the horrified faces of her friends, all praying that she'd be able to manage her trunk this time. 

"I'm not going to pull off another stunt like that, don't worry," she snapped playfully and made her way towards the portrait hole, her braid swinging gently behind her. 

*** * * * * **

The corridors were filled with students and their trunks, all making their way down to the Entrance Hall to claim horse-less coaches to catch a ride to Hogsmeade Station. Adrienne walked in silence, Harry, Ron, and Hermione behind her. 

"Please, it is time to board the coaches," called out Professor Sprout above the rumbling of the many voices that were crammed into the Entrance Hall. Adrienne pushed her way through the crowd, cutting through several lines, and made her way out the double oak doors. 

"Here comes the first coach, Miss Miles," said Professor McGonagall, who was standing on the top step, overseeing the departure proceedings. 

"Thanks, Professor," said Adrienne, setting down her trunk and rubbing her arms, convinced they were about to fall off. 

"Not much for waiting in line, eh?" called Harry, as he, Ron, and Hermione pushed their way out of the doors. Adrienne turned. 

"No," was all she replied. 

"Have a good Christmas," said Hermione abruptly, pulling her into another hug. 

"I will, and you too, Hermi; and take lots of points from Slytherin, you don't need a reason, just pretend you have one." 

Hermione laughed and shook her head. "I hate to think what would happen if they made you a prefect, Adrienne," she replied. 

Adrienne grinned evilly. "Ever heard of negative numbers?" she said, raising her eyebrows up and down several times before turning to Ron. He looked a little pathetic, standing on the top step, blushing furiously and twisting his hands anxiously. Adrienne stepped forward and kissed his cheek. 

"You have a good vacation too, and remember don't practice chess, that way I might have a chance of winning when I come back," she said quietly. 

"Right, no chess," nodded Ron, dumbly, blushing even darker, his cheek burning where she had kissed him. He slowly raised his hand up to the lip gloss mark she had left and said, "Have fun with your professors, and don't forget a gown." And then on a brave instinct, leaned forward and kissed her, stepping back quickly, marveling at his own daring. Adrienne smiled and turned to Harry. 

"Be careful now, Potter, don't do anything stupid," she said sarcastically. Harry glared at her. 

"And you be careful too, especially in London, some parts can be a little dangerous," he said, "don't get lost." Adrienne smiled and gave him a quick hug. Professor McGonagall watched quietly from the edge of the staircase. 

"Minerva, the coach is ready, are you going to add another student, there's only three in here," called Professor Flitwick. 

"Yes, in a second," she called. 

"Bye guys!" called Adrienne as she hoisted her trunk back into the air and half waddled over to the coach, trying hard to carry the weight. 

"See ya later alligator," she called to Professor McGonagall as she walked past. 

"Enjoy your holiday, and don't forget your holiday work, Miss Miles," replied Professor McGonagall. 

Minerva stood quietly as Professor Flitwick directed students into the next coach. Her eyes followed Adrienne's as it made its way towards the school gates. She cast a glance back at Harry, who was standing, flanked on either end, by Hermione and Ron. Professor McGonagall shivered before turning her attention back to directing the departures. 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne sat alone on the Hogwarts' Express, in the same compartment she had sat in on her ride to Hogwarts back in September. She sat on the floor, her trunk open, her schoolbooks piled around her, working frantically to finish the three essays she had as holiday work. Upon finishing her Potions and Transfiguration essays, she decided to take a break, and climbed up onto a window seat to watch the snow covered scenery whiz past her window. 

Adrienne sighed and leaned back in her chair, pulling her sweater closer around her. It was going to be chilly and she didn't have a coat or any gloves besides her dragon-hide ones for school, which she was not about to wear while taking a taxi across London. She couldn't believe she was going back to Salem: She had so many things to tell Professors Glenn and Hartel. She wanted to speak with Professor Bell, and tell Professor Mondel about kicking Draco on the ride to Hogwarts. She wanted to show all the professors her success at Transfiguration, and tell them all about her new friends. She sat still, relishing the thought of seeing them all again, when a horrible realization struck her: her necklace. 

Adrienne quickly looked down at her right palm: The triangle was still shining there. She had no idea how she was going to explain away this one. 

*** * * * * **

Adrienne handed her money to the taxi driver and followed him to the taxi's trunk. 

"Do you need help with your trunk, little lady?" asked the amiable man as he slammed the taxi's trunk shut. 

"No thanks, I've managed so far," she called as she took it from the driver. 

"Enjoy your trip then, and Happy Christmas," he called as he walked around the taxi. 

"Happy Christmas to you too," Adrienne called. 

She stood there in the street and watched the man drive away. It was a beautiful sight: Snow was falling slowly, dancing playfully in the air. A well-placed snowflake down the nape of her neck drew Adrienne back from her admiration of nature. 

"Brr," she whispered as she turned to look at the entrance to the airport. 

"This could be interesting," she mumbled and began to make her way towards the entrance. 

*** * * * ***

"Can I help you?" asked a man in uniform standing by a booth next to the entrance doors. Adrienne looked up at him. 

"Um, well, I have to check my luggage and get my seat assignment, I think," she said, shaking her head to try and get the snow to fall from her face. 

"First time traveling alone?" the employee asked, walking around the booth and reaching for her trunk. 

"Yep," replied Adrienne, handing her trunk to him and reading his badge: Charles. 

"You can do all that here," he said, setting the trunk onto the counter. "Do you have your ticket and identification?" 

"Somewhere," said Adrienne, pulling her bag into her hand and unzipping it to look for the envelope and the small identification card. After a few seconds of rapid searching, she set the two items on the counter and the man set to work. 

"Has anyone one asked you to carry anything for them or has anyone left a package with you?" asked Charles, looking at her identification card, and then at her face, finally handing it back to her. 

"Nope," Adrienne replied. 

"Good. Ok, little girl, you have round trip First Class tickets here. I bet you want a window seat, eh?" he asked, smiling jovially. 

"I'd love a window seat, if you have any," she said, smiling sweetly. She liked this Charles character. Charles smiled back and raised an eyebrow. 

"Well, it just so happens I have an open window seat, and now it's reserved just for you. Ok, this ticket on top is for your flight today, and the one I'm putting back in the envelope is for your return ticket, you'll use that one in the states. Any questions, missy?" he asked, indicating which ticket was which, with short stubby fingers. 

"I think I can handle it. Thanks, Charles," said Adrienne, putting her envelope back into her bag. 

"Anytime. Enjoy the holidays," he said, moving towards the elderly lady standing behind Adrienne. 

"You too," Adrienne called before turning and pushing her ways through the glass doors into the crowded airport. 

Adrienne made her way through the airport, following the large signs hanging from the ceilings. The airport was crowded and Adrienne had to literally push her way through the people. She checked her watch; her plane didn't leave for another two hours. Adrienne smiled: She was going to go find some pizza. 

*** * * * ***

"So, you think she made it through London all right?" asked Ron anxiously as he, Harry, and Hermione claimed chairs in the empty common room. 

"Of course she did, it isn't that hard," replied Hermione. 

Harry watched his friends quietly discuss what Adrienne was doing now, preferring to think about more pressing issues, such as why Sirius was coming back to the area and where he would be staying. 

"Harry?" 

"Haaarrryyyy?" drawled out Ron, "What you thinking about?" 

Harry looked at his two friends and smiled. "About how great it is to be done with school for three weeks; I'm ready for a break." 

"Me too," agreed Ron. 

"Well, we have to study for our O.W.L.s, this would be the perfect time to . . ." 

"Hermione! It's holiday! I'm not studying for a stupid test during the holiday!" snapped Ron. 

"It's not stupid, Ron, they are essential for . . ." Hermione continued. 

Harry leaned back and listened to them arguing, their voices drifting into another space, his mind becoming foggy. After a few minutes, he slowly drifted into sleep. 

*** * * * ***

_"Lucy, here's Adrienne, I just bathed her," said a young nurse, handing a bundled baby to the lady standing next to her. _

"Why aren't you a cutie?" Lucy said, smiling down at her. "And which little Adrienne are you?" Lucy reached inside the damp towel and pulled out the baby's arm. 

"Um, Sonja, where's her bracelet?" asked Lucy slowly, her eyes widening as she reached for the baby's other arm. 

"It's there, I think; I might have taken it off when I bathed her," replied Sonja as she gently washed another little girl. 

"No, Sonja, there is no bracelet," said Lucy frantically. 

"I must have taken it off; the bracelet's on the counter over there then," said Sonja nonchalantly, obviously not worried whether the baby was labeled or not. Lucy walked quickly over to the nearby counter and looked down: Side by side were to little pink bracelets, both reading Adrienne. 

"Oh no, Sonja, do you know which baby is which?" Sonja looked up from the little girl in her arms. 

"Of course, that one there is Adrienne," she said, returning her gaze to the wet little girl who was beginning to squirm. 

"THEY'RE BOTH NAMED ADRIENNE!" 

"What do you mean they are both named Adrienne?" asked Sonja sharply, this was her first week on her new job and she couldn't afford to mix up babies: She'd get fired. 

"They are both named Adrienne, what else would that mean, Sonja? Do you know which is which?" asked Lucy sharply. 

Sonja took a deep breath, this couldn't be happening, she needed to keep this job, 'Think Sonja, think.' 

"Um, of course I know, Lucy, that one there, in your arms, that's the twin," replied Sonja, not quite sure if she was right. 

"Are you positive, Sonja?" asked Lucy skeptically, looking down at the little girl in her arms. 

"Yes, you better take her back to her brother though, that way these two don't get mixed up again," said Sonja. She watched Lucy and the baby leave the room and turned her attention back to the little one in her arms. 

"You two are just babies, your parents will love you as long as they think you belong to them, huh - no big deal," muttered the nurse. 

She continued washing the infant, not realizing that she didn't hold Adrienne Miles, but instead Adrienne Potter. She didn't know that several hours later the little girl she had just sent back to the Potters would die suddenly from a pulmonary embolism. She didn't know anything except she would get to keep her job, and that was the only thing that mattered to her. 


	19. Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Chapter 19: Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

_THEY ARE BOTH NAMED ADRIENNE . . . do you know which is which . . . THEY ARE BOTH NAMED ADRIENNE! . . . Of course I do . . .THEY ARE BOTH NAMED ADRIENNE! . . . which is which? THEY ARE BOTH NAMED ADRIENNE! . . . that's the twin . . . that's the twin . . . that's the twin . . . that's the twin . . . THEY ARE BOTH NAMED ADRIENNE! . . . that's the twin . . . are you positive? . . . take her back to her brother . . . that's the twin . . .THEY ARE BOTH NAMED ADRIENNE . . . _

Harry shook his head in his sleep, bits and pieces of his dream flying through his mind. He shifted uncomfortably in his high-backed chair in the common room, shivering slightly. The fire had died in the grate and a biting chill was spreading through the room, battling against the heat, and winning. However, this battle was nothing compared to that which was raging through Harry's mind. 

_THEY ARE BOTH NAMED ADRIENNE . . . that's the twin . . _. his mind was still turning it over, _They are both named Adrienne._

"Adrienne?" shouted Harry confused, waking up abruptly and sitting up bolt in his chair. 

He looked around the room wildly, his eyes blinking rapidly as if he were trying to banish the thoughts flowing through his mind. Across from him, Hermione stirred. Ever so slowly, she raised her head off her arms and looked at him, her face exhausted and her eyes barely open. 

"What did you say, Harry?" she asked slowly, her tongue not willing to cooperate. Now Ron began to wake up. 

"Hmm, checkmate," he mumbled, a small smile occupying his freckled face. 

Ron opened one eye and slowly the other, obviously expecting to see a chessboard in front of him. He blinked a couple of times and then looked from Hermione to Harry, not realizing that Harry didn't look very good. Harry was white, his eyes open wide, and a look of pure surprise on his face. Ron shook his head slowly. 

"Did we forget to go to bed?" he grumbled, reaching his arms into the chilly air to stretch out the kinks in them. "Next time, we should fix the fire before we decide to camp out here," he added, dropping his arms and wrapping them around himself. 

Hermione pulled out her wand and flicked it in the direction of the fireplace. In a second, a large fire was alive and dancing, refueling the war between the cold and warmth of the common room and adding a considerable amount of light, illuminating Harry's frozen face. 

"Something the matter, Harry?" asked Ron, finally realizing that he didn't look himself. Harry didn't answer. 

"Did you have another dream?" asked Hermione quietly, standing up and walking over to him. She knelt down and sat at his feet, looking up into his dim eyes. "Harry, what's the matter," she whispered. 

"I just had the oddest dream, that's all," said Harry hoarsely. 

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "About what?" she asked. He didn't respond right away. 

"Adrienne," Harry finally replied, fully aware that having dreams about a girl who isn't your girlfriend isn't a great thing to do. 

"Adrienne?" asked Ron, standing up and dragging his chair next to Harry's. 

"What was it about?" asked Hermione very slowly. 

Harry closed his eyes for a second. "Something about there being two Adriennes, and one's a twin," he replied. "I told you, it doesn't make any sense." 

"Yeah, who would name both their twins Adrienne?" mused Ron, rubbing his eyes bemusedly, still not quite awake. Harry turned to look at him. 

"No, two ladies acted like they had mixed up two babies named Adrienne." 

"What?" asked Hermione, finally completely waking up, "wait, start again." 

Harry rolled his eyes; already the details of his dream were beginning to slowly drift into oblivion. "It looked like a hospital, and two nurses had two babies who were both named Adrienne, and they didn't know which was which. They said one was a twin; she had a twin brother," said Harry, concentrating on holding the last images of his dream in his mind. 

Hermione sat very quietly. From her research she had discovered that many people who had had traumatic events in their pasts or possibly in their futures suffered dreams of either the traumatic events or the possible events. She had learned that it even went as far as dreaming about life events of those one was close to. This lingered in Hermione's mind. 

"I think tomorrow I'm going to the library . . ." Hermione began. 

"Hermione! It's the first week of vacation, how can you be worrying about school now?" shot back Ron irritably. 

"It's not about school; Hogwarts has copies of public records, and I want to look at them." 

"Why, Hermione, would Hogwarts have those kinds of files?" asked Harry, standing up from his chair. Hermione stood up too. 

"Well, like you said Hagrid told you; Hogwarts is one of the safest places. If something happened to the Ministry, all our records would be lost; it's a backup" replied Hermione, wrapping her robes around her. The fire still hadn't really warmed the room. 

"Who would want to torch the Ministry?" asked Ron, following their lead and making his way towards the staircase. 

"I'll give you one guess," replied Harry darkly. 

Harry climbed the stairs toward the boys' dormitories in silence, his mind drifting back to the clouded memory of his dream. He couldn't place his finger on it, but something bothered him. 

*** * * * ***

"Thank you for flying British Airways," called a tired stewardess at the front of the plane. 

Adrienne stood up, rubbing her eyes. She had slept well, not having any nightmares; however, she reminded herself that she really hadn't had any nightmares for several months now. She took a deep breath and pushed herself into the aisle and slowly began to file towards the exit. As she reached the entrance to the airbridge, a jet of freezing air shot through the gap between the plane and the bridge, waking Adrienne up instantly. It really hadn't been her idea to take another night flight; however, arriving in Boston at six in the morning did give her even more time to spend at the castle, catching up with her professors. 

"Walk faster, kid!" called a gruff man behind her as he zoomed past her, dragging a suitcase on wheels, his long trenchcoat billowing behind him. 

"Geez," she muttered and quickened her pace, her heart beginning to race with anticipation as she neared the end of the airbridge. 

In an instant, the dull gray walls of the bridge gave way to a very uncrowded Boston terminal. Adrienne's eyes roved over the small group of people waiting by the gate. An elderly women, with a shawl covering her head, a handerkchief up to her face in anticipation, was the first person she saw. People of different ages and races crowded around the gate, each waiting expectantly for their loved ones to step out. 

"Jessica!" called a man ahead of her, and a young woman with blonde hair ran past Adrienne, jumping into the man's arms and kissing him. 

All around her people's names were called out, answered by exuberant responses and actions from those exiting the plane. To Adrienne's dismay, not one person called out her name. More and more people filed past her, pushing her out of the way, yelling at people standing up ahead. Adrienne made her way to a nearby row of plastic chairs and slowly sat down, her eyes searching for Professor Hartel, for Professor Glenn, for Professor Bell, for someone. Slowly, people began to file out of the terminal, making their way to the luggage area, the happy sounds of reunion echoing through the emptying terminal. 

"They're just late, someone probably pulled a joke at the school or something, they'll be here," Adrienne told herself, standing up and taking a different chair so she could watch the graceful snowflakes drift lazily towards the muddy ground. After several minutes, Adrienne looked around, wondering where she left Hecate. 

"Hecate?" she whispered, and then softly smacked her head. She had left Hecate at Hogwarts, having decided that carrying an owl onto an international flight probably would not have the best consequences. 

"Great, now I don't have any way to get a hold of anyone at Salem," Adrienne muttered grimly. She put her head into her hands and stared at the floor, a persistent sickening feeling seeping into the pit of her stomach, "Maybe they forgot," she whispered. 

"Maybe they forgot all about me," she said a little louder, swallowing the rising lump in her throat. Adrienne shut her eyes against the flood of tears that were fighting to escape. "They forgot me." 

"Excuse me?" came a soft voice from behind her. 

"Excuse me, but we're looking for our daughter. Have you by any chance seen her?" said the same voice. 

It sounded a little familiar. Adrienne opened her eyes and looked out the window into the quickly growing blizzard. "She was coming home for the holidays, have you seen anyone else around here besides you?" 

Adrienne turned in her chair. "No, I . . ." her jaw dropped. 

"Did you think we forgot you?" asked Professor Hartel, smiling broadly, Professor Glenn standing next to her, his arm around her shoulder. 

"I didn't know it was you two!" exclaimed Adrienne, jumping up and rushing towards them. 

"Quick voice changing spell," replied Professor Glenn as Adrienne smacked into him, engulfing him into a gigantic hug. 

"I missed you all so much!" she exclaimed, tears of joy smudging her face. 

"And we missed you too!" exclaimed Professor Glenn, letting go of her and gently taking her face in his hands and looking at her. 

"You look even more beautiful than ever, Adrienne. I bet you had some admirers at Hogwarts, eh?" he said, smile wrinkles accentuating his eyes. Adrienne smiled back. 

"Only one," she replied, stepping away as a look of horror spread over Joe's face. 

"What do you mean?" he asked quickly, but Adrienne ignored him. 

"Professor Hartel!" she said, stepping forward and reaching to hug her. 

"Adri! I can't believe it, oh my, Adri," whispered Mia, tears dropping onto the top of Adrienne's head. Adrienne stood there for several seconds, relishing the moment.

"I have so much to tell you guys!" Adrienne exclaimed finally, pulling away from Mia and staring broadly at her professors. Adrienne looked down to make sure she still had her bag and then smiled. "Let's go get my trunk; I can't wait to get back to Salem; I mean, I have so much stuff to get caught up on," Adrienne said, grabbing her professors' hands and leading them down the terminal. 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne pulled herself off the snowy ground, her head spinning slightly. 

"I always hated Port-Keys," she mumbled, dusting off the cold white powder that now covered her clothes. She looked around at the snow-covered forest and breathed in the familiar air. 

"How does it feel to be home, Adrienne?" asked Professor Hartel, helping to brush off some of the snow still clinging to Adrienne's sweater. Adrienne whipped around to stare at the Salem entrance gates. 

"It feels perfect," she whispered. 

She trudged through the snow after Joe and Mia, occasionally casting a glance over her shoulder to the Gallows. They had a couple Muggle style shops there; she'd go shopping the next day. 

"I have to get a Muggle formal for our Valentine's Day Dance," said Adrienne once the old creaky gates had swung closed behind them. This caught Joe's attention at once. 

"Oh?" he said quickly, turning his head to stare at her, his eyebrows raised in a skeptical expression. 

"Really? How wonderful Adrienne, we'll have to go shopping as soon as possible," said Mia. 

Joe didn't look as enthused. "What do you mean? Do you have a date for this dance?" he asked, staring at her like a hawk. 

"As a matter-of-fact, I do; his name's Ron Weasley, and he is really nice," replied Adrienne, quickening her pace slightly, wanting to put some distance between her and Joe, as he didn't look happy about her revelation at all. 

"Adrienne, you're only fifteen! Look at what happened last year with Bret?" Joe exclaimed, striding after her, "I don't think you are old enough to have a boyfriend; I didn't think you were old enough last year, nor do I this year!" 

Adrienne turned, a broad smile on her face; she always thoroughly enjoyed torturing Professor Glenn. "I'm just going to a dance with him, Professor Glenn, a dance. It's not like I'm going to come home married after second term; keep your robes on, professor," replied Adrienne smoothly. 

"You're just going to the dance with him, you're not seeing him, you haven't kissed him?" asked Joe, completely traumatized at _his _little Adrienne seeing someone whom he had never met before. 

"Well . . ." Adrienne began. 

"What do you mean, well?" asked Joe dangerously, his eyes narrowing. Adrienne saw this and decided to quit her game. 

"Nothing," she said quickly, turning and beginning to climb Salem's entrance steps; however, on the second step she found herself frozen to the ground. 

Professor Glenn stood behind her, Professor Hartel behind him, shaking her head embarassedly. Professor Glenn had his wand out and from the looks of his face, he was not interested in hearing a reply of "nothing." 

"Let's try this again, Adrienne, what do you mean, _well_?" he said in a fashion that reminded Adrienne of those overprotective television dads she had seen on Muggle comedy shows. Adrienne pursed her lips and then sighed. 

"So, I kissed him on the cheek, before I left, what's the matter with that?" she mumbled. 

Joe raised his eyebrows and before he could respond, Mia had put a hand on his shoulder, warning him to settle down. 

"Once? Ok, I guess I can handle once," he said, straining to keep his face calm; however, it only made him look like he was sucking on a sour lemon while treating a bad sunburn – this only egged Adrienne on. 

"And then he kissed me back," she said, enjoying the drastic change that took place upon Joe's face. 

"WHAT!" he exploded, "What were you thinking! You're only fifteen!" Mia cleared her throat and stomped on his foot. 

"Ouch . . . fine," he snapped back at his wife and again tried to calm himself. 

"Ok, I guess I can handle that, he just kissed you on the cheek, right – fine," he mumbled, more to himself than to Adrienne, unfreezing her from the ground. Adrienne smiled evilly .

"Not exactly," she said and then turned, ran up the steps, and flung herself through the entrance, leaving Joe standing at the bottom of the steps to work out what she had said. 

*** * * * ***

"Adrienne? Adrienne!" called Professor Mondel as Adrienne shut the doors behind her, trying to block out the angry shouts of Professor Glenn. Adrienne turned, smiling. 

"Professor!" she yelled and then ran forward, "Guess what! You wouldn't believe it – I got in a fight on the first day of school!" she exclaimed excitedly. Professor Mondel's face fell. 

"Adrienne, you know I didn't teach you martial arts so you could go around beating people up," he began. 

"Don't you have any faith in me? Anyways, this boy had it coming for a long time – I was just given the incredible opportunity of cutting down some of his mutant ego," replied Adrienne. Professor Mondel cracked a smile. 

"The incredible opportunity of cutting down some of his mutant ego? Now that's the style of talking that Salem has been dearly lacking in since you left. It's so serious now; we haven't had any reason to evacuate, or close down a wing," he chuckled. Adrienne's eyes narrowed. 

"Nor will you have any reason anytime soon," she replied. 

A loud creak behind her informed her that Professors Glenn and Hartel had entered the castle. Adrienne looked over her shoulder. Mia rolled her eyes and then motioned with her head to Joe, who was carrying Adrienne's trunk and still wore a very dangerous expression. Adrienne got the hint. 

"Hmm, I think I have to go get reacquainted with Salem, excuse me," she said hastily and rushed towards a nearby corridor and out of the range of Professor Glenn's wrath. 

*** * * * ***

Hogwarts was almost completely void of students. The hallways were silent, the classrooms empty, and the grounds held few trails of teenage footprints. Mixed in with these footprints, however few they may be, were those of an animal; an animal, who, by the tracks left a week after the beginning of break, had an appointment with someone in the castle – for from the edge of the Forbidden Forest, right up to the Hogwarts entrance steps were the prints of a dog, and by the size of the prints, a very large dog. 

The shaggy dog pushed his way into the castle as the sun began to rise, illuminating the black and white world of winter. Sirius quietly let the door shut and walked as softly as he could through the Entrance Hall, leaving a trail of wet paw prints behind him. He had chosen such an early time, thinking that the students would still be in bed; which would have been a very well thought out plan, except, Hogwarts currently housed several students who tended to roam the halls at odd hours of the day.

"Hermione, it's six in the morning! You've spent a week looking through those records and you still haven't found anything!" exclaimed Ron, his feet dragging as he walked next to Hermione. 

"I didn't make you two come with me," she shot back. Harry smirked. 

"Right, and if we declined, then we'd be the next victims of Hermione, the Knowledge Obsessed Witch," joked Harry. Hermione didn't think so highly of this and picked up her pace. 

"Ok, but at six in the morning, Hermione? What do you have against sleep?" whined Ron, yawning loudly, more to emphasize his statement than because he really had to. 

"Because, we only have two more weeks and I want to make sure I find the right record!" she said, rounding a corner. 

Suddenly, her legs met something hard and she flew forward, her arms up to shield her head, and landed several feet away. 

"Hermione!" yelled Harry and Ron in unison, running around the stationary thing that she had tripped over. 

"Are you ok?" asked Harry, kneeling down beside her. Hermione rolled over and sat up quickly. 

"Sure, yeah," she said, shaking her head. 

"Are you that jealous of Adrienne that you had to take up her job of being clumsy while she's away," joked Ron, giving her hand to help her up. 

Hermione took it and offered her other to Harry. In a second she was standing up again; she first glared at Ron and then turned her attention to what had sent her flying: a large shaggy black dog. In a second her eyes lit with recognition. 

"Harry," she whispered, "Look!" For the first time since Hermione's fall, Harry turned his attention to the black dog standing before the statue of a particularly ugly gargoyle. 

"Sirius?" Harry whispered. 

The dog shook its tail in response. It turned its head, checking to make sure no one was around and then with a pop, Sirius appeared. He was wearing clean, black wizard robes, except Harry had never seen this style before. The robes didn't close, but hung open, revealing black pants and shirt underneath. Encircling the ends of the robes' sleeves were two thin colored rings of thread. The closest to the fingers was a golden color, and the second, a maroon color. 

Sirius looked a lot different than he had previously. His hair was still a little long, but it was clean and combed. His face wasn't bony or pale; instead, he looked like every day since the last time Harry had seen him, he had had a good meal. He looked exactly like the picture in Harry's album, except Sirius had aged, although it was only a little. 

"Jelly Slugs. Quick, inside," said Sirius, turning to look around him again. 

The gargoyle sprang to life, revealing Professor Dumbledore's familiar door. The four entered and began their ascent up the golden staircase as the door slid shut behind them. 

"What are you doing here? What are you wearing?" asked Harry hurriedly, beside himself with happiness at having Sirius with him again. Sirius smiled. 

"Business with Dumbledore, of course. And this? My official Celian uniform – Remus had kept it for me all these years. I think I'm the only one who still fits into their original one," said Sirius, but upon remembering his debilitating stint it Azkaban shuddered, "not saying that I'm glad about being starved for thirteen years, but I'll look on the bright side." 

Harry stared at his Godfather. He had never seen Sirius like this, like a real person. Sure, while Sirius had been living in a Hogsmeade cave, Harry had spent a couple hours with him, but he had acted still much like a broken man. Now he acted like someone normal – or as normal as you could get when you had an award on your head. 

"How long are you staying?" asked Harry as they reached the top of the staircase. 

"Until Professor Dumbledore tells me to leave. He told me he had some assignments that I could do here, said something about rewriting history – whatever that means," muttered Sirius. 

Harry stepped forward, picked up the golden knocker, and let it drop, the load clunking noise startling Hermione. 

"Come in!" called Professor Dumbledore from behind the closed door. 

Sirius stepped forward and heaved it open, revealing the Headmaster's bright office. Sirius and Harry walked in, Hermione and Ron lingering at the door nervously, having never been inside Dumbledore's office before. 

"Come in, come in, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger!" said Dumbledore jovially, standing up and clasping his hands together in delight. "I've been expecting you, Sirius. I was just preparing to come find why you were taking so long, but it seems you've been detained by my students. Take a chair, all of you," continued Dumbledore, indicting the chairs in front of his desk with his left hand, and conjuring up two others with his right. 

"Are you finding everything well?" asked Dumbledore once everyone had been seated. 

"Yes, much better than a cave," replied Sirius, stretching his neck. 

"And I'm sure safer," added Dumbledore, he then turned his attention to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. 

"And what are you three doing up this early during the holiday?" he asked somewhat suspiciously. 

"We'd be in our nice, warm, comfortable beds right now if it weren't for Hermione's incessant urge to spend every possible second in the library," said Ron hotly, obviously still miffed at this researching during the holidays idea. Dumbledore laughed. 

"Always trying to learn something new, good for you, Miss Granger, and it's good for them also." 

Ron glared at her. Hermione didn't notice, she just smiled at Dumbledore, clearly enjoying the attention. Dumbledore looked at the three students and smiled. 

"So I see you've discovered that Hogwarts is currently playing host to Sirius Black," said Dumbledore, setting his elbows on his desk and placing the tips of his fingers together thoughtfully. "However, since the Ministry is still looking for him, I would prefer to get him out of the castle and back to the Shrieking Shack before any of the other remaining students wake up. Thus, I'm sure you'll forgive me for my requesting that I speak to Sirius in private." 

Harry's mind began to race. He had so much he wanted to tell Sirius; he didn't' want to have to leave before he could talk to him. Dumbledore seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. 

"I assure you, Harry, that you'll be able to speak frequently with Sirius while he is here; now, if you three will just excuse us." 

"Thank you, Professor," replied Harry, standing up. 'At least this time I'll get a chance to speak with him,' Harry reminded himself as he followed Hermione towards the door. 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne lay on her bed in her empty dormitory, staring up into the blank ceiling, thinking. Salem's term had ended yesterday, and today, every student in the entire school had made a mad dash towards the Gallows to their waiting parents, port-keys, or designated fireplaces. This was the first time Adrienne had ever been the only student during the winter vacation; not that she had a problem with this. She preferred to have the castle to herself and the teachers. She raised her arm to look at her watch and sat up quickly; dinner would be beginning soon and she couldn't wait – this would be her first real time with her professors. 

She had spent the last week up in her dormitory or roaming through the Gallows, looking at dresses. Professor Hartel wouldn't be able to come shopping with her until after the start of vacation, and so Adrienne had made lists of the stores that had dresses she liked. But now that the students were gone she'd be able to fill everyone in on her adventures at Hogwarts. 

"Miss me?" asked Adrienne as she waltzed into the cafeteria, wearing her old emerald school robes. 

"Ah, sporting your real school's robes are we?" asked Professor Bell sarcastically. Adrienne raised an eyebrow. 

"Professor, I may be attending another school; however, no matter where my body is, my heart will be at Salem," said Adrienne dramatically, gesticulating with fine movements. Laughter rang through the large room. 

"Studying drama as a new course this year, Adri?" asked Professor Sloan, "I would have thought you'd learn something more productive while at Hogwarts." 

Adrienne smiled evilly. "Oh but I did – listen! First off, I learned that Professor Snape isn't a happy person – important lesson, mind you. Secondly, I learned that the Sorting Hat torments the students and Professor McGonagall has no patience. Thirdly, use care when transfiguring Muggle coins or you could possibly slime an entire class. Oh yes, I almost forgot – when you are trying to impress the Deputy-Headmistress and at the same time master her Transfiguration course, it would do good not to transfigure her into an newt." 

"You transfigured Minerva McGonagall into a newt!" shouted Professor Glenn, spitting his wine across the table. 

Adrienne shrugged her shoulders, "Maybe." 

"I bet she loved that!" said Professor Sloan, "I should have sent a warning with you, Adri, telling them that perhaps you should be exempt from Transfiguration or risk razing the castle." 

"Moving back to important lessons learned by Adrienne!" interrupted Adrienne, eager to build up to her climax, "I also learned that when playing Quidditch at their school, it is in your best interest not to anger the Slytherin seeker. But perhaps the most important lesson I learned is something to do with my wand," said Adrienne, pulling out her wand from her robes and smirking. 

"Anyone want to see a trick?" she said slyly, "I guarantee you, it's something you've never seen before, and worth the watch." All her professors looked at her curiously. 

"I'd sit down if I were you, Professor Mondel," directed Adrienne to the Muggle Studies professor, who had just stood up to reach for a distant dish. 

"Wonderful," murmured Mondel, sitting back into his chair, wondering what Adrienne was going to do and how much work it would take to undo it. 

"Ahem . . . and presenting the wonderful magical stylings of Miss Adrienne Lily Miles," said Adrienne in a deep announcer's voice. 

She walked over to the table and stopped next to Professor Sloan. Adrienne bent down and picked up an unused spoon. 

"An ordinary spoon – look, I have not tampered with it, I have not put a spell on it, I have not even seen it until right now," said Adrienne holding the spoon in the air and twisting back and forth so everyone could see it. 

"Now, are you sure it's a spoon? Young man, would you examine this utensil and clarify that I have not adjusted it in any way, shape, or form?" Adrienne said, walking over to Professor Glenn and letting him take it from her, a very curious expression covering his face. He looked at it for several seconds and then quite embarressedly said, "She's right, it's a spoon." 

"Do you see anything strange about it?" 

"No, Adrienne," replied Professor Glenn, trying hard not to laugh, "Have you been practicing to be a Muggle illusionist, Adrienne?" Adrienne glared at him and continued. 

"Now, it seems that this table is filled with food, but there is nothing good . . . like chocolate. With the aid of my trusty wand here," said Adrienne, twirling her wand in her fingers like Professor Wallace had done on the first day of school, "and the aid of this spoon, I'm going to fix this problem concerning the lack of chocolate." 

Adrienne cleared a spot on the table and set upon it a large upside-down bowl, which upon this she set a plate, and upon the plate a smaller bowl, upside-down, to make a make-shift stand. She set the spoon atop it and then took several steps back. 

"Now, complete silence, I must concentrate," she said. 

Adrienne stared at the spoon, lifted her wand, and shut her eyes. She focused every thought of her mind, every wish of her soul and heart on transfiguring the spoon into a large bar of Godiva chocolate. Slowly, but surely she envisioned her creation, and then with a final surge of concentration, flicked her wand. 

"ADRIENNE!" called a voice. Adrienne held her breath and didn't open her eyes, fearing that she had messed up. 

"I don't believe it!" 

"HOW? 

"Did you see that?" 

"Adrienne Lily Miles!" 

Adrienne finally opened her eyes. Sitting atop of the makeshift platform was a large wrapped bar of Godiva chocolate. Adrienne burst into a large smile and stared at her pale and shocked professors. She went into a deep bow. 

"Thank you, thank you, tomorrow the great Adrienne will display her prowess at Step Transfiguration," Adrienne called, tears welling in her eyes, pride filling her heart – she had done it, she had proved to every professor at Salem that she was not the clumsy little girl they had always thought her to be, and this made her feel invincible. 

*** * * * * **

Hermione collapsed into a chair, tossing several large books on top of the library table. 

"I don't think Adrienne was born in England, Hermione, or we would have found her by now, don't you think?" sighed Ron, collapsing into the chair next to her. 

"What did you tell us, Hermione, that her grandmother took her to America, we don't know where she was born," said Harry, staring dully at the pile of books in front of him. Hermione sighed. 

"These records aren't very organized are they?" she asked disappointedly. "I mean, they aren't even in order. Look, this book on births from 1979-1980 was next to the book on births from 1645-1655; what kind of order is that? I've looked everywhere, I can't find the 1981 birth book; she'd be in that one." 

Ron leaned over and pulled another book into his lap. 

"Well, this one is deaths from 1980-1981," said Ron quietly. Hermione turned at once. 

"Deaths?" she asked and then grabbed it from him. 

"Why didn't I think of that? We could look up her mother, Heather Miles," said Hermione, flipping through pages, "but we have to go through each page because we don't know when she died." 

Harry leaned back in his chair and waited, looking at the hundreds of books stacked several feet tall atop their table, dreading having to put them all away. 

"Wait, Hermione, I think you passed it," said Ron, who was leaning over the side of his chair to look at the book with Hermione. She flipped back through several pages, stopping on page 546. 

"Harry, look," she said quietly, motioning for him to get up and look. Harry pulled himself out of his chair and walked over to stand behind Hermione. 

"Heather Patricia Miles," Hermione began to read, "Died July 31, 1981 during childbirth at Mercy Hospital." 

"That means Adrienne has the same birthday as you, Harry, weird!" muttered Ron. Harry leaned further over Hermione to get a better look at the page. 

"Heather Miles, a recent graduate of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry is survived by her mother, Miriam Miles and her newborn daughter, Adrienne Lily Miles," Hermione continued. 

Harry's eyes roamed further down the page, past a Richard Warburton, who had died of a freak accident with a Blast-Ended Skrewts, and onto the next page. Hermione was rambling on about something concerning Heather when a name caught Harry's eye. He blinked several times and then reached right over Hermione's head, grabbed the book from her hands, and brought it closer to his face, thinking he was too far away to see clear. 

"What are you doing, Harry?" asked Hermione sharply, turning in her chair. Harry didn't answer, he just stumbled over to his chair and stared at page 547, at a name on the top. 

"Harry?" asked Hermione again. Again Harry ignored her and began to read the article under the name: Adrienne Lily Potter. 

Adrienne Lily Potter died August 1, 1981 of a Pulmonary Embolism at Mercy Hospital. Adrienne is survived by her parents, James and Lily Potter, and her day old twin brother, Harry Potter. 

Harry stared at the page, his mind racing. 

"Harry? What is it?" asked Hermione, finally standing up and walking over to his chair. She looked at the page he was pointing to. 

"Oh my," she murmured, sinking to her knees to better see the writing. 

"What's going on?" asked Ron, walking over to Harry's other side and staring at the book. In a second his face contorted into a mixture of surprise and confusion. 

"But, but, that means Harry, you, you had a sister," said Ron after reading the article, a trace of disbelief in his voice. 

Harry didn't reply. He just stared, wondering why no one had told him. Wondering why not even Sirius had told him that he had once had a sister, even for only a day. 

Hermione on the other hand was wondering about something else. Her eyes slipped from page 547 to 546, 'Adrienne Lily Potter, Adrienne Lily Miles? They were both born on July 31, 1981. They were both born at Mercy Hospital,' Hermione told herself, her mind slipping back to the dream Harry had told her about last week, 'something about there being two Adriennes, and one's a twin. . . two ladies acted like they had mixed up two babies named Adrienne.' Hermione's eyes widened. 

"Oh my," she murmured, standing up and placing a hand over her mouth in horror, "that isn't possible." And with that Hermione ran from the library, leaving a very confused Ron, and a very quiet Harry staring after her. 

Hermione raced through the castle, skidding around corners, running into walls, and finally into Professor Snape. 

"Miss Granger! What do you think you are doing? This is not a playground. Twenty points from Gryffindor," resounded Snape, glaring at her. 

Hermione stared at him, suddenly remembering what he had told Adrienne that day in Potions, something about knowing her parents. Hermione's eyes flashed. 

"You knew, professor, didn't you?" she asked angrily. Snape stared at her blankly. 

"Knew what, Miss Granger?" he asked shortly, eager to have another reason for taking points from the Mudblood. 

"You know! And you mocked them! You didn't tell them? You must have thought it was funny, eh? Them not knowing?" she exclaimed. Snape smirked. 

"I have no idea what you are talking about," he said coolly, even though he had a horrible feeling that he knew exactly what she was talking about, "but I do not need to be treated that way . . . you will show respect for your professors, Miss Granger, another twenty points from Gryffindor for disrespect . . ." 

Whatever Snape was going to say after that, Hermione would never know, for at that moment, all the anger she had been harboring from being the butt of so many of his jokes, from seeing his horrendous attitude, and now, coupled with the information he had held, finally got to her. 

"Twenty points? _Twenty points_? The only person who should be punished here is you, _Professor_! I cannot believe you! You should show some respect, we aren't your personal whipping boys, and especially not Harry or Adrienne, especially not them. Take as many points as you want, Professor, that doesn't make you better or superior to me. Respect, Professor Snape, is something that is earned, not something you receive because of a title, and you haven't done one thing to earn my respect. Torturing orphans because of their family? Pathetic," snapped Hermione. With that she strode past him and then broke into a run, heading towards the Gryffindor common room. 

She raced up the spiral staircase and burst into her empty dormitory. She ran over to her bedside cabinet and ripped open a door. She rummaged through her multitudes of books and pulled out a photo-album. She flipped to the last photograph, which had been taken only days before the winter holidays by Colin Creevey. She stared at the picture of her, Adrienne, Harry, and Ron. Her eyes flipped from Adrienne to Harry, taking in their identical features, her mind flipping back to the train-ride to Hogwarts, "is this your twin, Potter?" 

"Adrienne?" Hermione whispered to the picture. The photographic Adrienne smiled at her and nodded. 

"Adrienne Potter?" asked Hermione slowly. The photographic Adrienne beamed. 

"Oh my," gasped Hermione, staring at the picture, "Adrienne Potter never died." 

*** * * * ***

"What do you think about this one?" asked Adrienne as she walked out from behind the dressing room curtain. 

She wore a royal blue sleeveless princess style dress. The dress fitted tightly around her middle and then flowed gracefully to the ground. "Beautiful!" exclaimed Professor Hartel, walking forward to get a better look at the dress, "Turn around, Adrienne." 

Adrienne turned to show the back of the dress; it was low cut, showing off her slightly too pale but athletic back. 

"I don't like this one as much," responded Professor Glenn, staring at Adrienne in a skeptical manner, "It's a little showy." 

"Showy?" asked Professor Hartel, spinning around, "Showy? It's perfect, Joe! Look, it fits her wonderfully and the color looks beautiful with her complexion. She's a knockout!" 

"Exactly, Mia! She doesn't need to be a knock-out at fifteen," replied Professor Glenn, walking forward and looking at the dress more carefully. 

"I like it, Professor," replied Adrienne, turning in front of the mirror, watching the cloth twirl around her, "I like this one." 

Professor Glenn shook his head. "And what's the matter with wearing plain old dress robes?" he asked wearily. Adrienne rolled her eyes. 

"It's a Muggle formal, note the word MUGGLE! Muggles don't wear dress robes!" Joe shook his head. 

"This one, Adrienne?" asked Professor Hartel, looking at the price tag – 23 Galleons. 

"This one," confirmed Adrienne dreamily, envisioning how she would look at the dance, "How much is it?" 

"It doesn't matter, Adrienne, we'll take care of it," replied Professor Hartel, reaching for her bag. Adrienne stopped in her tracks, having begun to make her way towards the dressing rooms. 

"What do you mean?" she asked. 

"Consider this your Christmas present," replied Professor Hartel, smiling sweetly. Professor Glenn's jaw dropped in a silent protest. 

*** * * * * **

"So, Miss Granger has discovered the truth about Adrienne?" asked Dumbledore, staring out over the snowy grounds. 

"Yes, Headmaster, it seems she has," muttered Snape darkly, casting a hateful glance to Sirius, who sat quietly in the corner of the room, having chosen the place that put the most distance between him and Snape. Dumbledore turned from the window. 

"This is not how I had planned to tell him," he said wearily, "If Miss Granger knows, then Harry knows also." 

"What do you pan on doing now?" asked Sirius, mentally chastising himself for not having told Harry earlier; he had the right to know. 

"And if Miss Granger knows, then the Weasley boy knows," offered Snape, glaring at Sirius for his talking; it was easier to pretend he wasn't there when he was silent. Dumbledore sat down and looked at the two men. 

"I asked you two to be civil, at least try," he said, shaking his head. Neither Snape nor Black did anything. Dumbledore sighed. 

"Severus, you come with me. Well have to go find him," said Dumbledore, standing up. Snape nodded and smirked, at least he didn't have to stay with Black. 

"You should probably bring all of them. Harry will tell them anyway; it would make sense to explain it to them all at once," said Sirius from his shadowy corner. 

"I agree, Sirius. On second thought, Severus, you and Sirius can stay here." 

Snape's eyes narrowed, but he nodded and stood quietly until the door shut. Then he walked over to the window and looked out. Sirius glared at him, but then thought he should at least try and appease Dumbledore. 

"I saw you last night returning from your Death Eater thing," was the only thing Sirius could think to say. Snape whipped around. 

"First off, Black, I am no more a Death Eater than you are a murderer. Secondly, why are you spying on me?" shot Snape, his black eyes boring into Sirius'. "Old habits die hard," mumbled Sirius so Snape wouldn't hear, "So, what's your master planning now?" 

Snape's face reddened. 

"He's not my master, Black," he snarled. 

Sirius raised an eyebrow; he didn't completely trust Snape. 

"Ok, so what's he planning?" 

Snape glared at him. 

"I don't know. He seems to think he can't trust me. . ." 

'I wonder why,' thought Sirius. 

"but I know it's something big; we have another meeting tonight," said Snape. 

Black didn't say anything in response, and the office filled with an awkward silence. 

Sirius leaned back in his chair and sighed. Dumbledore had said Adrienne was a Perfect; moreover, the Perfect from the prophecy. Sirius shut his eyes. He could remember holding both of them, one in each arm, and joking about how Adrienne was bald and Harry wasn't. He remembered how shocked he was to learn that Adrienne had died, and now Sirius wondered how he'd respond when he finally met her again. 

The sound of the door opening made Sirius open his eyes. Dumbledore walked in, followed by Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who looked like she was carrying a photo-album. 

"Have a seat," Dumbledore told them.

Harry sat down slowly and looked around the room, still in a partial state of shock. 

"Harry?" asked Dumbledore gently as he sat down. Harry looked at him. 

"I hadn't planned on you finding out in a book," Dumbledore began, watching Harry intently. 

"So, she is my sister?" asked Harry, slowly. 

"Yes." 

Harry didn't know quite what to say and asked the first thing that popped into his mind. 

"When were you planning on telling me that I had a sister?" he asked shortly. 

Sirius stared at Harry and hung his head. He beat Dumbledore to answering. 

"Because, no one saw a point in telling you, not right away – too many horrible things had already happened in your life." 

"So, was anyone going to tell me that she was now attending Hogwarts?" asked Harry dangerously. 

Sirius shook his head. 

"We thought she was dead Harry, we thought she was dead," his voice cracked when saying this and he put his head in his hands. 

"But she isn't dead, is she," whispered Hermione, standing up and walking over to stand next to Sirius. 

He looked up. 

"No, she isn't," he replied. 

Harry closed his eyes. 

"So my parents died thinking that their daughter was dead?" he asked slowly. 

Sirius nodded. 

"Ouch," muttered Ron. 

*** * * * ***

Severus Snape walked quickly through the torch-lit corridor, his Death-Eater robes billowing behind him; he was late, by about three hours. 

"We had a staff meeting in which my presence was required, I just got away now," he said in the most submissive tone he could muster. 

He was met with silence. Snape looked around the dark chamber, realizing that no one was there. The flickering torch-light dancing eerily over the stone walls. 

"Hello?" Snape called. 

Silence.

"Master?" 

"They have left . . ." came a voice from the shadows behind him. 

Snape turned and faced a young Death Eater whom he didn't recognize. 

"What do you mean they left?" asked Snape cautiously. 

"They had business to attend to this evening," replied the Death Eater in a smooth, quiet voice. 

"Business? What kind of business?" asked Snape slowly, his eyes flickering around the room; he had never seen it this empty. 

"Business in America," was all the Death Eater replied. 

Snape's eyes flashed. 

"Why wasn't I informed about this 'business'?" he asked sharply, wishing dearly he knew whom this moron was standing in front of him. 

"Because Master didn't think you'd be able to assist in the plan; he didn't think you'd be able to escape from Hogwarts, so he thought it best to keep you in the dark," replied the cold voice. 

Snape glared at him. 

"And this plan?" 

"To extend an invitation." 

"What did you say?" asked Snape, piecing two and two together. 

"To extend the invitation to the Perfect," he replied, "Master said you are not needed tonight, but you are to stay here and await their return." 

Snape didn't move for a second, his eyes wide in horror. 

"But I am needed at Hogwarts this evening," Snape began; he had to tell Dumbledore right away that Adrienne was in danger. 

"Master's orders are that you are to stay here," said the other Death Eater. 

"I must return, my absence will not go unnoticed," replied Snape angrily; he didn't want this newcomer pushing him around. 

"You will stay here," said the Death Eater, drawing his wand, "Accio." 

Snape's wand shot from his robes and into the Death Eater's hand. 

"You will stay here." 

*** * * * ***

_Adrienne had her arms around Ron's shoulders and she was smiling at him, making him blush slightly. They didn't talk, just danced, oblivious to the other dancers around them. Adrienne moved close so she could rest her head on his shoulder, and shut her eyes, but before she got there, Ron let go of her hip and grabbed her shoulder, shaking her and whispering urgently, "Adrienne, Adrienne." _

Adrienne stirred in her sleep, her dream fading away with the urgent whisper of, "Adrienne, Adrienne, get up." As someone began to shake her shoulder, she opened her eyes. Above her, hastily dressed, wide-eyed, and impatient stood Professor Glenn. Adrienne brought a hand up to her face and rubbed her eyes sleepily. 

"What?" she mumbled, sitting up. 

Professor Glenn turned, casting a quick glance towards Adrienne's shut door; Adrienne noticed he had his wand out and was shaking slightly. 

"What's going on?" she asked slowly. 

Joe didn't answer. He raced around her bed to her trunk and threw it open. 

"You need to go, now!" he hissed in an uncharacteristically quiet tone, "Put this on; I won't look." 

"What do you mean I need . . " Adrienne began, bewildered, as she rolled out of bed and picked up the black pants he had thrown her way. 

"And this too," he added, tossing her a bra, socks, a white turtleneck, and a forest green sweater. Adrienne raised an eyebrow but quickly dressed. 

Professor Glenn had now moved to her bedside table and was searching through it. Adrienne stared at him. He was white, jittery, and kept throwing backwards glances towards the door. 

"Where's your Firebolt?" he asked finally, as Adrienne pulled on her last sock and reached for the pair of shoes he had tossed her way earlier. 

"I left it at Hogwarts, remember?" asked Adrienne impatiently. 

"Shit!" exclaimed Professor Glenn, then looking quickly at the door as if he was wondering if anyone had heard him. 

"Would you mind telling me what's going on?" Adrienne asked, standing up and walking around to him. 

As she rounded the edge of her bed something odd caught her eye: There was a faint glow shining through her window. Adrienne shook her head slightly and strode over to it. She flung open the curtain and gasped. Down below the castle, encircled by the white forest, bright flames were licking the inky sky – the Gallows was on fire. 

"What happened?" she exclaimed, raising a hand to her mouth in astonishment, "Why aren't they putting it out?" 

She turned to look at Professor Glenn, who now stood behind her; her wand, Muggle ID, and a wad of Muggle bills in his hand. 

"The Death Eaters have cast some kind of Dark Magic that is preventing the Ministry from fighting the fire," he said, "Here, you'll need your wand. And this, $2000 Muggle cash, put it in a safe place, along with your ID." Adrienne stared dumbly at what he had just thrust into her hand. "Put it away now, Adri," he shot at her, casting another furtive glance over his shoulder. 

"What do I need this for?" 

"I'll explain, we need to go, follow me, and keep your wand out," said Professor Glenn, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the dormitory door. Adrienne followed after, wondering what was going on. 

"Death Eaters? At the Gallows?" asked Adrienne as they made their way through the empty common room. 

"They attacked there first, and now, they're attacking the school," said Professor Glenn sorrowfully. 

"What?" yelled Adrienne. 

"Shh! They might hear you Adrienne," said Professor Glenn, turning around and grabbing her by the shoulders. He looked at her strangely, not believing she could be a Perfect, not sure whether the Death Eaters had come for the right girl, "They mustn't hear you – you need to leave now! Listen, you have to get to Boston, Adrienne, it's only 15 miles. The problem is the Gallows. Take the forest to the Gallows, stay as hidden as you can. You have to make your way to the oak tree – it will be heavily guarded, Adrienne, but you have to get to the oak tree. Once you get to the Muggle world, run, Adrienne, run as fast as you can. The quicker you get away the better. Get to Boston, take a taxi to the airport, and take the first flight to London. You know where to go from there," said Professor Glenn, not wanting to tell her why she had to leave for Hogwarts – not wanting to tell her that Voldemort had asked for her. 

"Do you understand, Adrienne?" asked Professor Glenn, tears welling in his eyes. Adrienne nodded in shock and then forced herself to ask a question she was dreading. 

"Where's Professor Hartel?" 

Professor Glenn looked at Adrienne intently. 

"Mia can hold her own, they need her, my job is to get you to safety, Adrienne." Professor Glenn bent down and kissed her forehead, "When we leave the common room we'll be in danger. No matter what happens, you have to get out of the castle. Got that? No matter what. Don't look back and don't stop running until you get to Boston. Promise me Adrienne. Promise me that you won't look back, that you won't quit until you are safe," whispered Professor Glenn hoarsely. Adrienne nodded. "I promise." 

"Good girl. Now, keep your wand ready and be quiet." 

Professor Glenn slowly opened the door to the main castle. At once Adrienne's ears filled with the shouts of curses. She ran after Professor Glenn, her wand in front of her, her ears filled with horrified yells and cries. They took to an unused corridor, hidden behind a staircase and ran. The classrooms flicked by Adrienne; torches were extinguished and Adrienne could only see what was ahead of her, and that was Professor Glenn. 

"There's a hidden exit down the Arithmancy corridor," he whispered as they rounded a corner that led to a stairwell. 

The two raced down it, taking several steps at a time, flying around the corners and counting floors. They ran by a slightly open door and a voice followed Adrienne as she ran past it. 

"Where's the Perfect? Why protect the girl? Tell me where she is!" came a very familiar voice that made Adrienne shudder, but she couldn't remember where she had heard it before. 

Professor Glenn threw a different door open ahead of him and they burst out into a corridor. 

"There, two more!" 

"It's the Perfect!" 

Two Death Eaters stood at one end of the corridor, standing over someone whom Adrienne couldn't recognize in the darkness. 

"Get them!" 

Professor Glenn grabbed Adrienne's arm and threw her behind him and turned and yelled, "Stupify." 

The Death Eaters blocked it easily. 

"You promised, Adrienne, get out of the castle now!" he yelled while trying to ward off the two Death Eaters. 

Adrienne heard the pounding of feet and realized that more were coming. She turned and ran, pushing herself to run faster than she had ever ran in her life. She ran through corridors and around corners, trying to find a way out, knowing that the majority of the windows would be locked with a spell she didn't know how to break. She turned a corner and reached the end of the Arithmancy corridor. 

"Great, I don't know where this door is," she muttered. 

Adrienne walked across the corridor to a wall and started inspecting it for a doorway. She found nothing and as just about to turn back when she heard the echo of footsteps behind her. She gripped her wand tightly in her hand and flattened herself against the wall. A figure ran past her and as Adrienne jumped out from the wall the figure turned. 

"Professor Glenn!" 

"Shhh, come on," he whispered and pointed his wand at the wall Adrienne had been just inspecting. 

"Trecidora," he whispered, and the wall slid open to reveal the dark Salem grounds. 

"Remember Adrienne, don't stop until you get to Boston," he said, reaching out and stroking her cheek, " we love you, Adrienne, always remember that." 

The shuffle of feet behind them interrupted their goodbye and Professor Glenn shoved her out of the castle, sliding the door shut behind her. 

The freezing night air hit her like a brick wall and Adrienne gasped for breath, her lungs stinging, now from her running and accentuated by the cold. Adrienne looked around the dark lawn before beginning to run again. She threw her legs out in front of her with all her might, and drew them back as fast as she could, realizing that with her back to the castle she was a sitting duck for anyone looking out a window. Adrienne ran, her mind focused on what she had to do, the comments she had heard regarding a Perfect not once crossing her mind. 

The forest drew closer and Adrienne gripped her wand tightly in her hand, praying that no one had seen her escape. In the dark, the forest looked more foreboding than ever, but Adrienne didn't let her imagination get in her way. Light or no light, she knew the area like the back of her hand. She ran to the right, hurtling fallen logs and rocks, wishing the moon wasn't partially covered, then she could have seen better. The woods were silent except for the crunch of Adrienne's running shoes on the snow. Her feet were quickly becoming soaked and snow was getting under the legs of her pants, but she kept running. 

The Gallows was only about five minutes away and just as Adrienne thought she was almost there, her foot slipped on an icy patch in the middle of a clearing. Her feet fell up from under her, her arms flying out to the sides, and her wand went flying. Adrienne landed hard on her back, her head hitting the ground and the last thing she remembered before blacking out was screaming. 

Adrienne's eyes snapped open seconds later, her head pounding, and her back aching. She slowly forced herself to sit up, a wave of nausea overtaking her. She was extremely dizzy, and every second she stayed in a sitting position her head pounded more. 

"It came from over here," said someone Adrienne didn't know and couldn't see. 

Adrienne's eyes widened in horror, forgetting momentarily the pain from her fall, she looked around frantically for her wand, but in the dim moonlight, she could barely see. She reached out with her hands, but only found snow. 

"Come on," urged Adrienne, now feeling around frantically for her wand, all too aware of the nearing footsteps. 

"Shit!" she mumbled, and slowly stood up, wobbling slightly as her head began to spin again. 

She took an unsteady step forward and another, off the ice patch onto normal snow. Adrienne could barely stand, a fresh wave of nausea surfacing. Adrienne took a deep breath, the sound of more shouts and footsteps causing a rush of adrenaline that pushed her pain from her mind. She stepped back with her right foot and raised her hands, knowing that without a wand she'd have to disarm her opponents physically. 

Two Death Eaters entered the clearing and Adrienne ran at them, now blessing the dim moon because they didn't see her coming. Adrienne jumped into the air, spinning and extending her left leg to catch the jaw of thenearest Death Eater . The Death Eater fell to the ground and just as Adrienne landed, she leapt back into the air to catch the extended wand arm of the other Death Eater with the inside of her foot. Her right foot caught his wrist and the Death Eater's wand went flying. Adrienne then grabbed his wrist and threw him to the ground. She let go of him and ran over to where his wand fell. She bent down, picked it up, and whispered, "stupify," just as he began to sit up. Adrienne stood there for a second, her arm still raised and then slowly dropped the wand, and looked at her luminous watch: 12:30 A.M. 

"That's what you get for ruining my Christmas," she spat. 

Adrienne ran back to where she fell, dropped to her hands and knees and began searching for her wand. Snow began to soak through her pants, and just as her legs were beginning to go numb, her hand, now beginning to loose sensation, enclosed something circular and long. 

"Ah ha!" she whispered, grabbing her wand and jumping to her feet. 

She shook her legs and then ran over to the nearest Death Eater. Adrienne put her wand in her mouth and reached down and tried to yank off the black robes, thinking she could wear them to sneak to the oak tree; however, before she could manage it, she heard shouts. Other Death Eaters were arriving, investigating the source of the light issued when Adrienne had stunned the last Death Eater. Adrienne looked up quickly and then, choosing a different path to the Gallows, began to run. 

Behind her she heard the shouts of the newly arrived Death Eaters and ahead of her she saw the glow of the burning Gallows. Adrienne came to a halt at the edge of the forest and hid behind a large tree. What Adrienne saw made her sick: The street was littered with bodies, some burned, others all too clearly unmarked. Adrienne shivered, "they're all dead," she whispered. At least thirty Death Eaters were running around, shooting curses at the few remaining present American aurors. Ahead of her stood the large oak tree, but between it and her, at least five Death Eaters. 

"Promise you won't quit until you're safe," remembered Adrienne. Adrienne wasn't going to break her promise to Professor Glenn, but at least she'd do something productive in her attempt to reach the tree. Using her advantage of anonymity she pointed her wand at the nearest Death Eater and exclaimed, "Containtium!" Then, "Stupfy! Petrificus Totalus! Stupify! Stupify!" As the last obstacle in her path fell, Adrienne raced out into the open, running at top speed, blocking various curses other Death Eaters sent her way. She didn't hesitate but ran right into the tree. 

The Muggle forest was just as dark on this side of the tree as on the other. Adrienne paused and looked around, knowing that he Death Eaters would be following her in a few seconds. 

"They'll follow my tracks," she muttered, her breath condensing in front of her. She took a step forward, a brilliant idea popping into her mind. 

"Concealio," she muttered, pointing her wand at her footprints. Adrienne then placed her wand flat in her hand and whispered, "Point me." The wand twirled and pointed to her right. 

"I have to go south," she reminded herself and set off, leaving no footprints behind her. 

Adrienne kept running, every so often checking her direction and adjusting it to make sure she'd hit Boston. She was freezing, her shoes and pants soaked, her hands numb, and her nose and ears unfeelable. Her lungs were on fire and her entire body was begging her to stop. But she didn't, she had promised Professor Glenn that she wouldn't. Adrienne flicked her wand at her shoes and pants to dry them. She pulled her hands and wand into her sleeves and held the ends shut. She had did the hardest part, escaped the Death Eaters, now all she had to do was run the fifteen miles to Boston. 

*** * * * ***

She felt like lead. She was again nauseous, her head spinning. Adrienne could no longer feel her toes, nor could she see straight. Her stride had shortened and she had all she could do to breathe. Her lungs burned and black dots of unconsciousness attacked her eyes. She stumbled and fell into the snow. Adrienne rolled over and lay there, staring up into the starry sky, her entire body aching, her eyes drooping into sleep. 

"I'm so cold," she whispered, her teeth chattering. She tried to remember a spell to help her, but her mind was too preoccupied with the shooting pain that was now attacking the backside of her body, as the snow soaked through her clothes. A blissful feeling began to drift over her as she grew steadily tireder, her mind telling her to sleep. Adrienne slowly closed her eyes and laid there, in a snow bank, in the dead of night, alone and afraid. 

Adrienne didn't know what exactly kept her from succumbing to sleep, what kept her from succumbing to a frozen death, but no matter how much her body begged her to give up, a small voice in the back of her mind continued to speak to her. 

"You promised, Adrienne, you promised not to give up," said her mind. Adrienne stared blandly at the backs of her eyelids. 

"Don't give up now, you can't be that far from Boston. You owe them, they risked their lives for you," said the voice, "You promised." 

Adrienne slowly opened her eyes. The needlelike pain that had been plaguing her had now ceased and frostbite was stetting in. Adrienne slowly pushed herself out the snow bank and stood up, the world around her spinning. She again performed a charm to dry her clothing, checked her direction, and set out again, very slowly and unsteadily: She wasn't going to give into a frozen death – she'd fight. 

Adrienne was barely running when she saw the first signs of civilization: a planned neighborhood. Adrienne burst into a very painful smile (her face was burned form the cold); she had made it. The site of the first house revived her energy and she picked up her pace, following the sidewalk, which thankfully had already been spread with salt. Adrienne made her way through the prim and proper neighborhood and followed the sidewalk to a park. Adrienne scanned the snow-covered playground equipment, the empty benches, and then, in the early morning sunlight saw it: A telephone booth. With energy she would have sworn she never had, she raced toward it, slipping and sliding on the ice. Upon reaching it she pulled out the yellow pages and very clumsily flipped through it, unable to bend her blue fingers. 

"Cab companies," she mumbled, her eyes searching frantically along the pages. 

"Cab companies," she sighed, smiling slightly. She reached for the telephone and dialed the number. 

"Please insert 35 cents," said the electronic voice. 

Adrienne's face fell; all she had were bills. She shoved her hands into her pockets, searching for change but found none. 

Adrienne looked around wildly, hoping somehow there would be spare change lying atop the snow somewhere. There was none. Adrienne stuck her frozen fingers into the coin return, but it was empty. She pulled on the change lever, but nothing happened. 

"Come on - give me change," she cried, begging the lever as she continued to pull on it. To her surprise, the clink of metal against metal pierced the early morning silence. Adrienne jammed her fingers into the coin return hopefully. She pulled out two shiny quarters. 

"Wonderful!" she exclaimed as she inserted her money and dialed again, not at all wondering why the money had just decided to fall out of the phone like that. 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne leaned back in the warm cab and slowly bent her fingers, which were beginning to thaw out now. Stores decorated for Christmas, empty parks, and restaurants flew by her window. Adrienne could feel her wand against her leg and she sighed, not at all believing what had happened, not at all believing it was Christmas. Her mind flashed back to Salem, and she wondered what was happening there now. She pushed the thought of who might have survived the attack from her mind. She didn't understand why the Death Eaters had attacked, or why Professor Glenn had been so adamant at her leaving the castle completely. Adrienne thought they would have wanted her to stay, to help with the fight. 

"We're here, miss," said the cabbie. Adrienne reached into her pocket and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and thrust it into the cabbies' hand, even though her fare was only $56. 

"Merry Christmas," she said and slowly got out of the cab into the empty street. She hurried through the light snow into the airport, which was almost empty. 

"Why shouldn't it be, everyone should be at home with their families at Christmas time," Adrienne whispered as she made her way to the British Airways reservation desk. 

A red head stood behind the desk, wearing the nametag of Barbara. 

"May I help you?" Barbara asked, taking in Adrienne's exhausted, weary, and burnt face. 

"I'd like a one-way ticket for your fist flight to London," Adrienne said, while reaching into her pocket to pull out her ID and her money. 

Barbara looked at her curiously. 

"Are you flying alone?" she asked, taking the ID from Adrienne. 

"Yes. Name's Adrienne Miles and I need the first flight to London, any seat, any class, as long as I get on it," said Adrienne brushing her knotted and wet hair out of her face. 

Barbara turned to her computed and started typing, her eyes sometimes slipping to look at Adrienne. 

"Flight 248 leaves at 7:00, they started boarding five minutes ago. It isn't full; if you hurry you can make it," Barbara said, handing Adrienne back her ID. 

"Sounds good," replied Adrienne, "How much?" 

"$975." 

Adrienne reached into her pocket and pulled out the cash. 

"That's a whole lot of money for a little girl to be carrying around in her pocket," said Barbara, raising her eyebrows. 

Adrienne shrugged. 

"I had to empty my savings, this is an emergency . . . one thousand," Adrienne said, thrusting the cash into her outstretched hand. 

Barbara gave her back her change and printed her a ticket. "Gate 19. You need to hurry though, it leaves in fifteen minutes." 

"Thanks," mumbled Adrienne and she turned and walked away from the counter. 

"Merry Christmas, little girl," called Barbara, as Adrienne hurried to her gate. 

*** * * * ***

The plane was almost completely boarded when Adrienne arrived. 

"Ticket?" asked another cheery flight attendant, making Adrienne scowl. Adrienne handed her the ticket and waited for the flight attendant to let her pass. "Seat 16A, Merry Christmas and enjoy your flight." 

"Merry Christmas indeed!" muttered Adrienne as she trudged towards the plane, struggling to even walk; she was so tired. 

Several people stared at her as she walked through the aisle. She was red-faced, her eyes were blood shot, and her eyelids barely staying open. Her hair was horribly tangled and her sweater, ripped on her right side. Adrienne walked past her seat and headed toward the lavatory. Upon locking it, she turned to look into the mirror. 

"I look dreadful," she whispered. 

Adrienne reached down, with some difficulty in the cramped compartment, and pulled out her wand. She straightened and stared into the mirror deciding what she should try and fix first. Deciding on her hair, Adrienne raised her wand, pointed it at her head, and stopped. 

Adrienne stood there, her mouth open in horror, ignoring the flight attendant's call for everyone to take their seats, staring at her right hand. Adrienne slowly lowered her hand and brought her wand closer to her face, blinking unbelievably: she wasn't holding her wand, but a small tree branch. 

"Oh Merlin," Adrienne murmured and she fell back against the wall, her mind remembering back to when she fell in the forest. Then remembering her dash to the oak tree, her run to Boston, and the coins just falling out of the payphone. 

_"Where's the Perfect? Why protect the girl? Tell me where she is!" "It's the Perfect!" "You have to go now Adrienne." "Where did you learn to do magic without incantations?" "Do you know what you are capable of?" _

Adrienne shook her head. 

"Voldemort came for a Perfect," Adrienne whispered breathlessly to her reflection. She shut her eyes in a horrified realization; "He came for me." 


	20. The Search

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 20: The Search**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

The dim light issuing from the dying torches cast deep shadows throughout the silent chamber, offering only enough light for the Death Eaters to distinguish the shape of the very irate figure before them. 

"Imbeciles!" the figure roared, his voice resonating off the stone walls, causing several crumblings of dust and stone to fall from the ceiling. 

The robed and hooded men and women shifted uncomfortably, their eyes meeting one another's, each and every single questioning whether they had actually performed up to their capabilities, all except the Death Eater at the far end, who was at the moment contemplating how exactly Adrienne had escaped. Snape rolled his eyes and smirked under his mask; Voldemort had once again underestimated a Potter. 

"Do none of you have anything productive to tell me?" Voldemort shot. 

His Death Eaters shifted uneasily. 

"Do you mean to say that our endless planing of last night only earned us the death of a few hundred people? That is nothing! Crabbe, Goyle? What about you?" 

Two large hooded men stepped forward.

"She, um, is stronger than she looks," muttered Crabbe uneasily. 

"Am I right in believing she defeated both of you with Muggle fighting?" 

Silence. 

"_Muggle _fighting?" Voldemort drew his wand and pointed it at Crabbe, "_Muggle_ fighting? I cannot have morons incapable of defeating Muggle attacks working for me. I gave you two a second chance, obviously I was wrong in doing that." Voldemort's red eyes flashed and Snape shut his. 

"Wait, master!" called Goyle. 

Voldemort sneered. 

"Are you going to beg for your life, Goyle?" he asked amusedly. 

Goyle stepped forward hesitantly, swallowing hard. 

"The Perfect, she dropped something in the forest," he stuttered, reaching into his robes. 

Voldemort lowered his wand in interest. Goyle slowly withdrew a wand. 

"The Perfect dropped her wand, Master." 

Voldemort rolled his eyes with impatience. 

"What good is that to me? She doesn't need one!" he yelled, raising his wand in fury, but suddenly he stopped, a twisted smile slowly spreading across his face. "You mean to tell me, that little Adrienne Potter is unaccounted for, somewhere in the Muggle world, without a wand and no way of contacting Magical Society?" he asked slowly. 

Snape opened his eyes, not quite sure where he was going with this. 

"I think so," answered Crabbe. 

Voldemort smiled evilly. 

*** * * * ***

Joe Glenn sat silently at the side of his wife's bed, holding her still hand, his head bowed, and his eyes shut, a replay of the previous night running wildly through his mind. 

He, Mia, and several other teachers had just left the cafeteria, having finished putting the finishing touches on the surprise Christmas tree for Adrienne. Every Christmas Eve after she had gone to bed they would stay up half the night putting up even more decorations, just to see her amazed face when she came rushing in at sunrise. They chatted for several minutes, then exchanged hugs and Christmas Eve greetings, and then made to leave for bed. Mia had been the first to notice it, the small, faint light drifting through the mullioned entranced windows. One by one the professors had each turned, their curiosity getting the better of them, Professor Mondel commenting that Adrienne had probably set something on fire my mistake. 

_"Oh my, she set the entire Gallows on fire this time!" he yelled upon swinging the entrance door open. _

"What?" Mia asked, running out of the castle and down several steps before she stopped dead in her tracks, a deadly silence filling the air. 

Joe walked up beside her, trying to discern in the semi-darkness what she was staring at. He didn't have to look too hard. Slowly, out of the flame filled darkness, a long line of figures were approaching the castle, dressed all in black. Joe strained to see their faces. 

"Get back inside now!" yelled Mia, drawing her wand and grabbing her husband's arm. 

Joe stumbled backwards after her, his face frozen in shock: They were wearing masks. 

"Death Eaters? Here?" asked Professor Sloan once the doors were shut and locked. 

Mia turned around, her eyes wide, "They set flame to the Gallows. Why are they coming here?" 

"Where's Adrienne?" asked Professor Bell, drawing her wand also, her wizened face now stony and set. 

Joe turned. 

"Upstairs, still asleep," he said, following the lead of his colleagues and drawing his wand, "She'll be safe there; they won't know any students are here." 

A bright flash of light shone through the window and the gigantic double doors buckled. Mia turned and stepped back from the doors, raising her wand. 

"We need to send an owl; we need help," she said. 

Professor Sloan ran off towards the owlery, leaving the small group of teachers in the entrance hall, all their wands pointed at the buckling door, more teachers filing in to investigate. 

Another flash of light and as the doors gave, Mia cast her first spell, knocking down the first several Death Eaters. Joe looked at her; her face was blank, her eyes alert, this was just a tournament to her. Mia cast another spell, sending it at a Death Eater standing in the middle of the doorway. The Death Eater blocked it and laughed, reaching up and lowering his hood, his red eyes gleaming in the darkness, a lipless smile engulfing his face. Joe gasped and stood rooted to his spot, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to speak. 

"Where's the Perfect?" Voldemort asked dangerously, his wand pointed right at Mia. 

"What are you talking about?" she asked, staring at him with disdain, all too aware of the various battles now going on around her. 

Voldemort's eyes flashed. 

"The girl. Where is the girl? Hand her over!" 

"I don't know who you are talking about," said Mia in a deadly calm. 

"Tell me where the girl is! Imperio!" 

Mia blocked the curse expertly and began her offense, yelling at the same time a conversation. 

"I don't know who you are talking about." 

"Tell me where she is, or I'll kill you." 

Mia swallowed hard and shot a glance at her husband, telling him exactly what to do. Joe ran out of the room, dodging several curses; he had to find Adrienne. Mia glared at Voldemort. 

"Then kill me." 

*** * * * ***

"Adrienne?" 

Joe's eyes snapped open and he stared down at his wife. Mia's eyes were half open, searching wildly around the room. She struggled to sit up. 

"Honey, stay there, you've been hurt," said Joe, putting a hand gently on her shoulder. 

Mia turned to him, her eyes wide with fear. 

"Where is Adrienne?" she said hoarsely. 

Joe didn't respond for a moment and then slowly chose his words. 

"Not here," he said, stroking back his wife's hair. 

Mia stared at him, taking in his worried face, his tired eyes, his frown. 

"Where is she? Please tell me, Joe, please tell me they didn't get her," she whispered and then started coughing, her face turning slightly red. 

Joe looked around for a doctor, but turned back to Mia when she grabbed his arm. 

"Where is she?" Mia whispered again, staring into his eyes. 

"I'm not sure," replied Joe, squeezing his wife's hand, "But this is Adrienne we are talking about, she can take care of herself." 

Mia shook her head softly and suppressed another cough. 

"She escaped then?" 

Joe nodded. 

"She escaped, honey, she's gone." 

Mia smiled slightly, slowly shut her eyes, and drifted back into unconsciousness. 

Joe again bowed his head. "Please let her have escaped," he whispered into the silent room. 

*** * * * * **

Christmas Eve Harry hadn't been able to sleep and instead sat in his bed, his drapes drawn, staring into the maroon hangings. He didn't understand it. He didn't understand why no one had told him. He didn't understand how he could have known Adrienne now for an entire term and never realized their similarities. Now, looking back on it he couldn't see why he never questioned it when he had first seen her: They did look exactly alike. Harry brushed his hair out of his face and leaned back against his pillow, his mind still turning it over: Adrienne was his sister. 

Harry must have fallen asleep at one point, because the thump of someone rolling out of bed woke him up. Harry slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes bemusedly and looking around before pulling back his curtains to reveal the small pile of presents at the foot of his bed, Ron's smiling face coming from the bed opposite him, and the figure of Hermione curled up on a chair in the corner, her presents at her feet. 

"About time, it's eight already!" exclaimed Ron, picking up his pillow and tossing it at Hermione, who Harry thought must have come in during the middle of the night. 

Hermione jerked awake and looked around wildly. 

"Am I late?" she asked, and then taking in her surroundings, "How did I end up here?" 

Harry shrugged. 

"You tell us, Prefect, going to take points away from yourself for this?" he asked mockingly. 

Hermione glared at him. Harry dropped his smile, his mind returning to dwell on Adrienne, who now was half way around the world, celebrating Christmas alone. 'She's with her professors at Salem, remember?' Harry reminded himself as he crawled across his bed to reach his presents. 

"Adrienne's are in your piles already," said Hermione, standing up, retrieving her presents, and making her way closer to her two friends, settling down on the floor between their beds. 

Harry picked up his first package; it was from Adrienne. He carefully set that aside and reached for the next one. They sat in silence, opening their presents, passing their gifts around so everyone could get a better look. Hagrid had given him a pictorial description of that summer's Quidditch World Cup. Sirius had given Harry a black broom case to store his Firebolt in. Mrs. Weasley had once again knitted him a sweater, a green one like the one from his first year, and had sent him fudge. Ron and Hermione had pooled resources to buy him a very thick, green leather bound book, its edges trimmed in gold: _A Comprehensive History of the Game of Quidditch. _

"That one will keep you busy," commented Ron, reaching for his last present, "It's 2000 pages long; Hermione found it." 

Ron rolled his eyes, and Harry laughed, only Hermione would find the largest book in the store. 

"Thanks you two, I think I'll save it for the summer, that way I'll have something to keep me busy," Harry said, placing the heavy book in the small pile behind him. 

He turned to the last package, wrapped in blue paper, and looked at the note: To the famous Harry Potter (I bet you loved that!) From the one and only unfamous Adrienne Miles. 

Harry shook his head amusedly, wondering how Adrienne could be so odd even in her notes. Harry slowly opened the present, following the creases, not ripping the paper. Hermione and Ron causally watched him, wondering what he was thinking. Harry reached into the open end of the package and pulled out a beautiful mahogany framed photograph. Harry stared at it the picture for several seconds, his jaw hanging open. 

"Harry? What did she give you?" asked Ron, walking over, stopping to give Hermione a hand up. 

Harry stared at the picture. His parents stared back at him, young and smiling, a little boy with messy black hair in his mothers arms, perhaps a year old. They were standing next to a young lady wearing deep purple robes. Her shoulder length hair framed her young face, her purple eyes sparkling proudly, a large golden medal hanging off her neck, a girly signature at the bottom in a shimmery jade pen: Mia Enid Hartel. 

"Where did she get that?" asked Hermione, looking over Harry's shoulder. 

"That's my parents," he whispered, "and that's me. But who's the other lady?" 

"Did Adrienne leave you a note with it?" asked Ron, picking up the discarded paper from Harry's lap. He stuck his hand in and felt around, slowly withdrawing a folded piece of paper 

"Here," Ron said, handing it to Harry. 

_Dear Harry – Merry Christmas, _

Ah ha! Hermi told me that you didn't have any pictures of you with your parents. Now, of course, being me, that's exactly what I would have wanted for Christmas, so I decided perhaps you would too. The lady in that picture is Professor Hartel fourteen years ago when she became the International Dueling Champion, the first girl to do so. Your parents went to the Championship, which was held at the beginning of October 1982, and it turns out, had their pictures taken with Professor Hartel, and Professor Hartel said that they had sent it to her to have her sign it. However, that was right before that Halloween, and for some reason Professor Hartel had kept it all these years. When I mentioned that I hung out with you, Hermione, and Ron, she said she seemed to remember something and later wrote about the picture she still had. I had it framed for you and then sent to me. I dearly hope you like it; I know it isn't just you and your parents, but I figured it would work anyway. I hope you enjoy your Christmas, and I think you should peg Draco with snowballs – but that's just my opinion. I'll see you in about 10 days. 

Always,   
Adrienne 

"Oh my, I forgot – Adrienne still doesn't know, does she?" asked Hermione slowly, looking at the photograph, "To think, Adrienne's surrogate mother met her parents." Hermione shook her head hatefully, "What kind of world do we live in where peoples lives can be ripped apart so easily?" 

*** * * * ***

Snape raced back across the grounds Christmas morning, slipping and sliding and cursing the icy snow beneath his feet, wondering exactly what genius set the castle so far back onto the grounds. Out of the corner of his eye, a large black dog was running at top speed out of the forest, running to meet him. Snape's eyes narrowed and he sneered, aiming a kick at it as it approached him. Sirius, on the other hand, was a lot quicker and jumped out of the way, barring his teeth, yet, tilted his head towards the castle and turned to walk up ahead, indicating for Snape to follow. Sirius walked, turning around often to make sure Snape wouldn't curse him behind his back, which was exactly what he was contemplating. 

"What took so long, Severus?" asked Dumbledore once Snape and the dog were safely in the Headmaster's office. 

A slight pop resonated through the room and Sirius took his normal shape, promptly stepping back to his Snape-less corner. 

"You haven't heard about it yet?" asked Snape, a little breathlessly; he wasn't in the best shape to be running around the Hogwarts grounds, nor through the castle at top speed. 

Dumbledore shook his head, and his eyes dulled with a reluctant curiosity. Snape took a deep breath. 

"They were all gone when I arrived there, except for some young bozo recruit who wouldn't let me leave. They went to that Salem school, to find Adrienne." 

"What?" asked Sirius, striding over to Snape, "Is she all right?" 

Snape turned and rolled his eyes. 

"Of course she's all right, if Potter can escape Voldemort, his sister can," Snape shot, and then turned his attention to Dumbledore, "They burned the Gallows, attacked the school, and somehow Adrienne escaped. The problem remains though, that not one person knows where she is." 

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, shutting his eyes to think. The room was silent for several minutes, Snape and Sirius, forgetting they hated each other for a second or so, stared side-by-side at Dumbledore, waiting for him to reply. 

"Well, if Adrienne has her wand she may try to Apparate, that's taught earlier at Salem, perhaps she'll try that. Even if she splices herself the Ministry will find her and rescue her from the Muggle world," said Dumbledore, opening his eyes. 

"Is Adrienne the kind of person to go around breaking the Ministry's laws?" asked Sirius doubtfully. 

Snape laughed. 

"If she's like her brother, of course she is; however, she doesn't have her wand, Voldemort does," said Snape coolly, "She dropped it in the forest between Salem and the Gallows, and I don't think Adrienne knows that she doesn't need a wand, so she probably won't try." 

Dumbledore nodded his agreement. 

"She's alone somewhere in the Muggle world and for all intens and purposes, powerless," said Dumbledore slowly, standing up and walking to his window to look out over the lawn. 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne stared listlessly out of the window, watching the clouds swirl by, watching the blue ocean roll beneath her, feeling as is she was at its depths, with no way of surfacing and with no way of perishing; just there, trapped at the bottom, begging for air and yet not getting the relief of slowly drifting into an asphyxiated death. Her brain worked constantly, rationalizing and contemplating, yet reaching no firm conclusion, no firm platform to give her a stance from which to move forward. 

Adrienne sat there, her hands folded in her lap, her mind drifting back to the horrific screams that had echoed through Salem, to the worried and desperate face Professor Glenn had worn as he shoved her from the castle out into the bitter Christmas air. The images of the body strewn Gallows set itself in her mind. Adrienne shut her eyes and shook her head, unable to banish the image from her thoughts. Whether her eyes were shut or open, clear as anything she could see the disturbing picture of a young girl, lying in what remained of her charred cotton nightclothes, her hair entirely burned off, her eyes open and bloodshot, her skin peeling back in large folds from her burns, her body thrown into the street like an old-newspaper. Adrienne could see the bodies, each engrained in her memory as if they had been etched into marble by a realistic sculptor; each one haunting her, plaguing her, each one whispering through their dead lips, their dead stares saying the same thing: They had died because of her. They're blood was on her hands. Adrienne's eyes snapped open; she was shaking violently. 

"They all died because of me," she whispered, and threw herself out of her seat and ran towards the lavatory, retching for the fourth time since take-off. 

Adrienne didn't look in the mirror, she just slowly washed her hands, refusing to look, refusing to acknowledge it. She stood there, desperately trying to believe that she was having a nightmare, that any moment she would wake up screaming, and all her professors would rush in, and she would tell them everything that she had ever dreamed, every strange thing that had ever happened to her. If only she would wake up. Adrienne slowly walked out, not having looked at her reflection at all; she didn't want to see herself, she didn't want to see a person who had brought about so much suffering in one night. 

Adrienne slowly strode through the plane, her eyes scanning every seat, falling upon a little girl sitting on the lap of a lady who must have been her mother, playing pat-a-cake and giggling. Except to Adrienne, this little girl wasn't wearing pink overalls, nor a cute white turtleneck, she wasn't laughing, nor did she have pigtails; to Adrienne she was the little girl in the charred nightshirt, lying dead in the Gallows, her life snuffed out before its time, stolen in the night by the unfairness of life, and all because of Adrienne. 

Adrienne turned on her heel and ran back towards the lavatory. 

*** * * * ***

"Mia!" 

Mia slowly turned her head and watched as several of her colleagues trooped into her hospital room. Mia smiled slightly, the noise of their shoes making her head begin to pound. She squeezed Joe's hand and whispered, "They're hurting my head." 

"Shh, she's injured remember?" he asked, not in his usual joking mood. 

Professor Bell looked at him sternly and then turned her attention to Mia. 

"How are you feeling, my dear?" she asked, pulling a chair up next to Joe's. 

"Like I spent my night dueling the Dark Lord," she whispered in an attempt to be sarcastic. 

Professor Bell cracked a smile. 

"Quite understandable." 

Mia turned her attention to a black lady with short hair standing next to Professor Bell. 

"Meagan, I bet your first year of teaching will remain in your memory forever, eh?" she asked hoarsely. 

Meagan smiled slightly and muttered something about needing to find a safer job. Mia laughed, only to send her into a severe coughing fit. Joe leaned forward and handed her a small glass of a green potion, which Mia drank, spilling half of it down her front though. 

"Where's everyone else?" asked Mia after she caught her breath. 

Professor Bell's smile faded. 

"Some are in their rooms, recovering," she replied quietly. 

Mia looked at Julia with understanding. 

"And the others aren't in their rooms recovering, are they?" she asked quietly. 

Professor Bell shook her head slightly, her eyes beginning to tear. 

"Who?" asked Mia quietly, tightening her grip on her husband's hand. 

Joe squeezed back. 

"Ralph Mondel and Leslie Sloan were killed during the fight. Cynthia Montgomery and Rachel Rozenth died after arriving here of complications resulting from various curses," replied Professor Bell quietly. 

"Oh god," Mia murmured, raising a hand to her mouth in horror, not knowing exactly what else to say. 

"And the Gallows was completely destroyed, including the Ministry buildings," added Meagan, "They are putting the death toll at about 270 right now, but they haven't discovered all the bodies yet." 

Mia closed her eyes. 

"All this because Voldemort wanted a Perfect," she whispered. 

Joe leaned back in his chair. 

"I don't see why he thought Adrienne was a Perfect; I mean, our little Adrienne, a Perfect?" he asked in disbelief. 

Mia turned her head to look at her husband. 

"What do you suppose she isn't telling us?" 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne slowly trudged through Heathrow, running absentmindedly into people, her face expressionless, her eyes dull, her mind constantly repeating to her, "They died because of you." Adrienne shook her head and walked out of the airport to stand in the swirling snow, watching the Christmas Day's semi-empty streets. Adrienne wrapped her arms around her body and shivered. 

"Now what do I do?" she whispered and stepped out of the way of a large caravan of people rushing towards the entrance. 

"I could go to Diagon Alley, and use a floo," she said quietly, but then reminded herself that she didn't know where Diagon Alley was; to top it off, she didn't even know where Hogwarts was. 

"Wonderful," she muttered, pulling out her Muggle money and counting it. She had a little over 700 American dollars left. For a few seconds, her mind, focusing on her new problem, forgot about the horrific night at Salem and reminded her that she'd need to exchange currency. Adrienne headed back into the airport, a feeling of dread rising in her throat: She was alone in a town she didn't know, in a culture that wouldn't offer any help, and she had no idea how to get to Hogwarts. 

*** * * * * **

"I'm so starved, I could eat a horse," said Ron as he, Harry, and Hermione made their way down to the Christmas feast. 

Hermione laughed and shook her head. 

"I see you've picked up Adrienne's quaint little dialect there," she said smiling at Ron. 

Ron blushed. 

"Sorry, Ron, but I seriously doubt we are having horse for dinner; however, if you are that set on eating it, I'm sure Professor McGonagall could transfigure some of your pork into horsemeat, that is, if you ask her real nicely," said Harry, dodging the irritated blow Ron had aimed at him. 

"If Adrienne had said that you two wouldn't have said anything," said Ron somewhat angrily. 

Hermione smiled even more. 

"That's because, Ron, that's how Adrienne always talks; you on the other hand have never spoken like that before, so it's hilarious," she said. 

Ron rolled his eyes. Harry laughed and pushed open the doors to the Great Hall. Once again the house tables were pushed to the side, and a large table was centered in the middle. Professors Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, and Lycé were already seated. Across from them, at the edge of the table, sat Malfoy, Goyle, and Crabbe. Several other younger students Harry didn't know were scattered throughout the other chairs. 

"Merry Christmas!" said Dumbledore jovially as the three made their way over, but Harry thought he sounded a little different, and he looked a little less happy than usual. 

"Merry Christmas, Professor Dumbledore," said Harry taking a seat across from him. Ron and Hermione took the chairs on either side of Harry. 

"We are going to wait a few more minutes I think, to make sure no other students or staff are coming," said Dumbledore. 

Ron turned to Harry. "I wonder how they celebrate Christmas in America," he said, his face breaking into the goofy smile that told Harry he was thinking about Adrienne. 

Harry smirked. "I'm sure they celebrate Christmas like we do, or close at least. Adrienne is probably running around that castle, falling down stairs, and giving her professors a run for their money. She did say something about keeping them entertained, didn't she?" asked Harry, looking around the table, trying to figure out who they were waiting for. 

"I wonder if she has her dress yet?" muttered Ron. 

Just as Dumbledore stood up to no doubt make the announcement that they could begin eating, several owls flew into the Great Hall. Hermione looked up. 

"I wonder who those are for?" A lone owl made its way to their direction, carrying what looked like a newspaper. It landed in front of Hermione, and she reached out to grab it. "I didn't think the Daily Prophet printed on Christmas; they didn't last year," she said, slowly opening it. 

Several other papers dropped in front of Draco and the professors. Hermione opened the newspaper curiously. 

"Oh my god," she gasped, beginning to read the first headline: 

"Death Eaters attack the Gallows and the Salem Academy for Magical Studies" 

"Harry, Ron, look!" she said, leaning over so they could see the paper. 

_At around midnight, last night, Death Eaters marched upon the American wizarding town, the Gallows. About a three-fourths of the group stayed in the Gallows, torching the houses and buildings, and killing all those who fled the flames; the other fourth separated and made their way to Salem Academy. In addition, the Ministry complex was also burned. Within minutes, the few Ministry officials and aurors present during the holidays began their counterattack; however, they were seriously outnumbered. The Death Eaters placed an unknown spell that prevented apparation and the use of the floo network, prohibiting the town and Ministry to call for backup. _

A small group of approximately fifteen Death Eaters advanced upon the Salem Academy; however, they found the professors there a more formidable opponent than the Gallows. It is rumored that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was there himself. How this is possible, it is unclear. The school's defense was led by former International Dueling Champion, Mia Hartel-Glenn, who is now currently in stable condition at the Dothberg Hospital of Modern Magic outside of Boston, Massachusetts. The Salem staff suffered far less casualties than those of the Gallows. Two professors were pronounced dead at the scene, and two died later at Dothberg. Several are still in critical condition, but are expected to survive. 

Salem Academy was not housing any regular students at the time; however, Salem was playing home to the Underage International Dueling Champion, fifth-year, Adrienne L. Miles, who transferred from Salem to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at the start of this school term. At the present moment, Miles is unaccounted for; however, the rumor among several professors is that the Death Eaters had come for her. What the young Miles could have done to make herself their target is unknown, but both the American and British Ministries have a search for Miles in progress. She was last seen Christmas Eve at midnight. She is five foot five inches, with long black hair, and green eyes. If anyone has information regarding her whereabouts or regarding the whereabouts of the Death Eaters, they are urged to owl their Ministry immediately. 

Harry looked up from the paper, his mind racing. The Death Eaters had attacked Salem and Adrienne was now missing. 

"Do you think she is all right?" asked Ron, hoarsely, his hands clenched nervously in his lap. 

Hermione put a hand on Harry's knee and squeezed. "Harry, she'll be all right. She can take care of herself. Just be happy the Death Eaters didn't get her," she whispered so only he could hear. 

"Potter, seems your little friend got herself into some trouble, doesn't it?" Draco had also finished reading the article. "Too bad they didn't catch her, eh?" shot Malfoy evilly. 

"Mr. Malfoy, that will be enough," said Dumbledore calmly. 

Harry stood up; he suddenly didn't feel very well. Hermione and Ron followed. 

"Yes, too bad, Malfoy. If anyone could have knocked some sense into those monsters, it would have been Adrienne," said Hermione, glaring at Malfoy, "I'm sure she could have given your parents broken noses, then your entire family could match." 

"Miss Granger!" said Professor McGonagall, her eyes flashing, although she too knew that Malfoy's parents had probably been there. 

"Don't you insult my family, Mudblood!" shot Malfoy, standing up angrily. 

"Then you be careful who you insult!" replied Ron. 

Professor Dumbledore didn't say anything, knowing all too well that no matter how hard Malfoy tried to instigate a fight, Harry wouldn't even respond; it seemed he was too shocked at the news. 

"Perhaps you should go speak to him, Albus," said Professor McGonagall, watching the three walk from the room. 

Professor Dumbledore shook his head. "Not right now, I have an appointment with Fudge in several hours. I'll speak with Harry when I return with more information," Dumbledore replied. 

He shot a glance at Snape, who had an odd expression on his face, and Dumbledore correctly guessed that the Potions Master was envisioning how the Malfoys would all look with broken noses. 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne trudged through London, her head bent to protect her already burnt face from the wind. Her fingers were as cold as ice and she looked around desperately for a store where she could buy some gloves and perhaps a hat; however, they were all closed. She stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and watched the cars pass by in front of her; each one of them filled with laughing families, no doubt going to a relative's house for Christmas dinner. Adrienne shut her eyes. She should be at Salem, sitting around the large table in the cafeteria, watching everyone eating and laughing; Professor Glenn continually drinking wine until Adrienne was sure he'd pass out, which he never did. She should be there, drinking hot chocolate by the fireplace in the teacher's lounge after dinner, siting with all her professors, listening to their stories and their childhood adventures. Adrienne shook her head; instead, she was alone in London, freezing, and lost. 

Adrienne carefully crossed the street and continued walking, her hands shoved into her pockets, her shoulders hunched up to shield her neck from the wind. It was starting to get dark now, the winter sun slowly setting, stealing the weak rays of warmth that had accompanied the day. Adrienne shuddered. She didn't want to spend all night out in the cold again. She walked by a large hotel and watched the limousines and taxis parked under the ramada in front. She made her way over to the nearest taxi. 

"King's Cross please," she told the driver, climbing into the warm car. 

*** * * * ***

Harry sat quietly in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione sat at his feet, leaning back against his legs and sighed. Ron sat on the floor and stared into space, hoping with all his might that Adrienne was all right, that where ever she was she was safe, and warm, and unafraid. 

"Can you imagine what that must feel like?" asked Harry suddenly, breaking the depressing silence that had overtaken the room. 

"What?" asked Hermione quietly, pulling her legs up to her chest and hugging them. 

"To have to run for your life on Christmas Eve," said Harry. He absentmindedly ran his hands through his hair, a deep worry residing in his gut, "I wonder where she is?" 

Hermione stood up and turned to look at him. 

"Where ever she is, Harry, she's safe. As long as You-Know-Who didn't get her, she's safe," Hermione said reassuringly. 

Harry shook his head. 

"Alone on Christmas. She's probably roaming around somewhere, wondering whether her professors at Salem are still alive. That can't be a pleasant thought," Harry replied. "She shouldn't have to spend Christmas out there alone, in the cold; she doesn't deserve that." 

Hermione looked at Harry, not knowing exactly what to say; all her knowledge she had picked up over the years not assisting her at all. 

"Why would You-Know-Who want her?" asked Ron quietly, turning to look at Harry. 

Harry shut his eyes; this had been the question that had been plaguing him for several hours now. He had been questioning himself about whether Voldemort knew who Adrienne really was, and if he did, had Voldemort attacked Salem to retrieve her to use as leverage against him. Harry sighed and shook his head. 

"You don't think its your fault, do you Harry?" asked Hermione quickly, reading his face. "It couldn't have been your fault. Salem and the Gallows is across an ocean, Harry." 

Harry's eyes snapped open. "If all those people died, if Adrienne is out somewhere, alone and freezing on Christmas because Voldemort thought he could use her against me, then it is my fault," Harry shot, standing up and walking past Hermione, and running up the staircase to his dormitory. 

Harry locked the door behind him and stood in the middle of his room deep in thought; he wasn't going to let Adrienne suffer because of him; Harry wasn't going to let Voldemort find her first, not if he could help it anyway. 

"Where would she go?" he asked himself quietly, walking towards the window and staring into the darkening sky. Harry put his hands onto the windowpane and stared out over the Forbidden Forest. 

"Where would I go?" he asked himself, "If I was at Salem and under attack I'd want to get away to someplace safe. Where would I go?" 

Harry turned back and walked to his bed, collapsing backwards onto it, staring up into the canopy. 

"If I wanted to escape something, where would I go?" he whispered into the silent air. 

And almost as if someone had been speaking to him, instructing him, he heard it. Looking back on it, Harry didn't know if he had imagined it, or if someone or something had whispered it to him, but nevertheless he had heard it: "Four years ago you escaped to Hogwarts." Harry sat up. 

"She's coming here," he whispered to himself, "But how?" 

"Alohamora!" The dormitory door burst open and Hermione and Ron walked in. Hermione wore a worried expression, and Ron was pale and obviously very worried. 

"You know what, Harry?" said Hermione, walking over to him. Harry glared at her; he had just began to make progress in trying to figure out where Adrienne would be, "If I were Adrienne, and my home was under attack, I'd come back here." Ron nodded his head. 

"Yea, it would be the only place to go, especially if the Death Eaters were after me," Ron agreed, sitting down slowly on his bed, looking at his hands in worry. 

Hermione sat down next to Harry. 

"And I wouldn't waste anytime about it. I'd get to Hogwarts as fast as I can. And, if I'd left my Firebolt at school, and floo powder wouldn't cross the ocean, and I didn't know how to Apparate, there would be only one logical way to get there," said Hermione. 

Harry looked at her, his eyes widening in understanding. 

"You'd take a plane," he said quickly. 

"And once I took a plane to London, I'd still have to get to Hogwarts. And the only way I would know how to get to Hogwarts would be . . ." 

"To follow the tracks from Kings Cross," finished Harry, standing up quickly. Hermione looked at him, a furious battle going on in her mind. 

"You really going to do this, Harry?" she asked slowly, watching Harry rush towards his trunk. 

Ron looked up quickly, a mixture of worry and relief on his face. Harry didn't respond. Hermione shut her eyes and continued her silent battle. Harry pulled out his new broom case and yanked out his Firebolt. Hermione bit her lip. Part of her wanting to tell him that if he went she'd tell the professors, and the other part knowing that Adrienne could easily freeze if she was trying to make it to Hogwarts, and if she didn't freeze, the Death Eaters could find her before she made it to the castle. 

Harry walked towards his bedside cabinet and pulled out his winter cloak, fastening it around his neck and pulling on his dragon hide gloves. 

"Hermione, I'm not going to lose another member of my family to Voldemort. I'm going to find her," he said determinedly, stealing a glance at the picture now sitting atop his bedside cabinet, looking longingly at his parents, "If they were alive they wouldn't sit back and do nothing." 

Hermione put her head in her hands. 

"It's going to be cold. You don't even know if she'll be there yet. She could still be in America," said Hermione, now wishing she hadn't told Harry this, realizing that she should have known he'd want to go looking for her. 

Harry walked over to the window, his broom in hand. 

"Promise me you won't tell," said Harry, turning back around and looking from Hermione to Ron. 

Hermione stood up. "We could just tell Professor Dumbledore, then he could tell the Ministry and they could go find her," said Hermione. 

Harry shook his head. 

"They have leaks at the Ministry, someone who works for Voldemort could get to her first, and plus, I saw Dumbledore leave earlier, I bet he went to the Ministry to discuss this with them," Harry said. 

"You might be seen," said Ron quickly, standing up and walking to Harry's trunk. Ron pulled out Harry's invisibility cloak. He handed it to Harry. 

"Bring her back, Harry," said Ron quietly, "Find her first, before the Death Eaters do, ok?" 

Harry nodded and looked at Hermione. 

"I'll be back, with Adrienne." 

Hermione nodded and sat down on his bed. "We'll be here waiting. London is southwest from here, make sure you don't get lost, or both of you will freeze," she said, shaking her head. 

Harry smiled sardonically. "Thanks for the encouragement." 

Harry turned, pulled his invisibility cloak over his head and threw open the window. A blast of freezing air met him, causing his teeth to begin to chatter. Harry took a deep breath, mounted his broom, and flew out, invisible. Hermione stood up and walked over to the window, closing it, but not latching it. Hermione stared out it the quickly darkening sky, her eyes taking in the quickly falling snow. 

"Be careful," she whispered. 


	21. As Fast As You Can Fly

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 21: As Fast As You Can Fly**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Barbara stood behind the British Airway's reservation desk, looking out the large windows across the room. Snow was barreling towards the ground and she sighed: there would be lots of delays and cancellations, which meant angry people. A man entered the airport to her right and caught her attention immediately. He was tall with white blonde hair and had an intimidating swagger about him. 

Lucius Malfoy stared around the Boston airport with disgust before beginning to make his way, quite uncomfortably in his restrictive business suit, to a nearby reservations desk. Barbara watched him coming, an odd feeling of foreboding coming over her. Perhaps it was her woman's intuition, or perhaps just because she really didn't like strangers, but something about him made her feel uncomfortable. 

"Welcome to British Airways, how may I help you?" she asked restrainedly, as he approached. 

Lucius offered her a forced smile that didn't extend to his dull gray eyes, nor lightened up his pale face. Barbara struggled to smile back. 

"My name is Trevor Miles, and I was inquiring about my daughter, Adrienne Miles. It seems she disappeared last night after withdrawing her savings. It's my belief that she may have taken a flight to London earlier today," said Lucius in a business-like tone. 

"I'm not allowed to reveal information about who has been traveling on our planes, sorry," she said, the image of the young troubled-looking girl from that early flight haunting her mind. 

Lucius' smile wavered. 

"She was minor; she had no permission to leave the country. You will tell me if my daughter ran away with the help of your services," he said coldly. 

Barbara shifted nervously; she didn't feel comfortable around this man. 

"I'm sorry, but our policy does not permit me to release that information," she said. 

Lucius's hand slowly moved to his pocket, and he causally withdrew his wand. Inconspicuously, he pointed it at her, having it hidden partially behind the desk. 

"Imperio," he muttered and then repocketed his wand. He looked at Barbara and smiled an evil smile. "Tell me whether Adrienne Miles was on a flight to London early this morning," he commanded. 

Barbara blinked, her face impassive, her head drooping slightly to the side. 

"A young girl by the name of Adrienne Miles boarded the seven A.M. flight earlier today to London. She should have arrived there several hours ago. The girl paid in cash," Barbara said dully. 

Lucius's smirk grew. 

"I want you to delete all records of her ever being on that flight," he said slowly. 

Barbara turned to her computer and started typing. Lucius looked slowly looked around the room; it was empty except for a few receptionists at a desk at the end of the room and for an elderly couple standing by the entrance. 

"The records no longer exist," Barbara said dully. 

"Are you the only person who spoke with her?" asked Lucius. 

"She may have spoken with some flight attendants but those who flew on her plane are currently enroute from London to New York," Barbara replied. 

"Thank you, Barbara," said Lucius with mock kindness, "You have been so much help, you have no idea; however, others may come investigating her whereabouts, and I can't have you helping them also." Lucius reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vile. He shook it a little, the purple liquid glinting in the light. "I have something for you, Barbara, for your help; a thank you present, you could say. Drink it." 

Lucius handed the vile to Barbara, who slowly opened it and tipped the contents into her mouth. She stood there for a second, placing the vile back into his outstretched hand, and then, her eyes rolled up into her head and she collapsed; dead. 

Lucius looked around, no one was watching. With a quiet popping noise, he disapparated. 

*** * * * ***

Harry shivered under his invisibility cloak. He pressed his body against his broom and flew at top speed, watching the scenery fly past below him. He shook himself every once and a while so that the snow, which was falling heavily now, wouldn't build up on his back and give him away. His mind returned to Adrienne. He could picture her, standing on a corner in London, all alone and freezing. Harry urged his Firebolt to fly faster. Hermione had been right, he didn't know if Adrienne was going to be at King's Cross, but he had to try. If Voldemort hadn't been able to catch her at Salem, he wasn't going to let her reach Hogwarts. 

Harry didn't know how long he had been flying, but every so often he'd use his wand to check his direction. He bit his lip and shivered; it was so cold and the newly picking up wind didn't help. As Harry flew over the small towns below him, his teeth chattering, and the piercing cold starting to penetrate his dragon-hide gloves, a picture of Adrienne floated through his mind, and something told him he'd have to fly faster. 

*** * * * ***

"Master?" said Lucius as he entered Voldemort's chambers, having put on his Death Eater robes so hastily that they hung lopsided. 

Voldemort looked up from his chair. 

"What did you find, Lucius?" he asked dangerously, his red-eyes glinting still with the anger of not retrieving Adrienne. 

"She took a seven A.M. flight to London; she's there now," Lucius replied hastily. 

Voldemort's frown slowly turned into a murderous smile, and he brought the tips of his fingers together in thought in front of him. 

"Do you know where in London?" he asked. 

Lucius shook his head. "WHAT GOOD IS IT TO ME TO KNOW SHE IS IN LONDON IF I DON'T KNOW WHERE, YOU FOOL!" he screamed, jumping up from his chair and advancing on Lucius. 

Lucius stepped back, cowering before his master. 

"If she, if she came to London, Master, she's . . she's probably trying to get to Hogwarts," Lucius stuttered, staring at Voldemort's wand hand, hoping dearly he wouldn't reach for his wand. 

Voldemort titled his head and looked upon Lucius with contempt. 

"There are plenty of ways to get to Hogwarts, that still is no help to me," he whispered threateningly. 

"My son said she took the train to Hogwarts; she may try and go to King's Cross, seeing as that is the only place from which she knows how to reach the school," Lucius said, swallowing hard. 

"What do you think she is going to do? Walk all the way there?" shot Voldemort, slowly reaching for his wand. 

Lucius took another step back. 

"She has to get there somehow, Master," he said quietly. 

Voldemort laughed, the high cackle sounding throughout the chamber, pervading into the far dark corners of the room. 

"True, and none of the Potters were too smart; she'll try and get there from King's Cross. Come Lucius, we are going to go _rescue_ that _poor child_ from the blistering cold," hissed Voldemort, another lipless smile spreading over his cruel face. 

Lucius sighed a sigh of relief and watched with a calming sense of well-being as Voldemort put away his wand. *** * * * ***

"Where are you going all alone on Christmas Day?" asked the cabbie as he navigated his way through the snowy London streets. 

He was an elderly man, with gray hair and a gray beard, and seemed to think he needed to entertain Adrienne during the trip. Adrienne turned her gaze from the window and looked out the front. 

"To visit some friends," she replied, leaning back in her seat and rubbing her hands together. 

She had been in the car for fifteen minutes now and she was still freezing; she couldn't seem to get warm. Adrienne pulled the collar of her turtleneck up higher and looked down to inspect her sweater, which still was torn. Adrienne sighed; if she only had her wand, she'd be able to fix it. 

'Stupid,' she told herself, 'If you are a Perfect you don't need your wand.' 

Adrienne shrugged off the thought, holding on to the last bit of hope that perhaps Voldemort had gotten her mixed up with someone else, that perhaps all those people hadn't died because he had come looking for her. Unfortunately, the image of her escape lingered in her mind: she had performed magic that night, thinking she had a wand when in reality she never had one. Adrienne closed her eyes, wondering how her life could have gotten so complicated so quickly. 

"Little girl? You awake?" asked the cabbie, turning around at a stoplight. 

Adrienne's eyes fluttered open. 

"Oh, yes, just resting my eyes for a second," she replied, another chill sweeping over her body. 

"You don't look so good? Are you feeling all right?" he asked, turning back around and continuing to drive. 

"I feel fine, thanks though," Adrienne said, rubbing her numb hands. 

"It's a bit cold out there, isn't it? They say it is supposed to be even colder tonight and there's a storm coming. Where exactly are you going?" he asked. 

Adrienne thought for a second. 

"Um, to the country," she replied, turning her attention back to the buildings whizzing past her. 

"Well, be careful if you're going to the country; you don't want to get caught in a blizzard before you reach your destination," the cabbie said as he pulled off the road to park in front of King's Cross. 

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for the ride," said Adrienne, reaching into her pockets, with great difficulty, to retrieve her money. 

Adrienne got out of the cab and again felt the cold wall of icy air hit her. She took a deep breath and watched the cab drive away. It was dark now and no stars or moon was visible. Adrienne shivered and half ran towards the station, shoving her hands into her pockets and biting her lip nervously. She still had no idea how to get to Hogwarts. 

Adrienne looked around the empty station, remember how only several months ago she was following Professors Glenn and Hartel through the multitudes, trying to find their way to Platform 9 and 3/4. 

"How come you guys can't be here now?" she whispered as she walked by a coffee stand. 

The warm smell was enticing but Adrienne didn't buy any; her stomach still didn't feel quite stable after that plane ride. Adrienne slowly trudged towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten. She looked around and then slowly walked towards it. In an instant she was on the other side, the wind blowing furiously, snow swirling up around her face. 

"Great, it has to be a blizzard_ today_!" she screamed into the dark night. Adrienne wrapped her arms around her torso and stood shivering. "I'll never make it like this," she whispered, the pain of white knives sticking throughout her body as the cold wind blew over her. 

Adrienne ducked her head against the wind and trudged to the edge of the track. She looked down the ways to her right; barely able to see anything in front of her. 

"I'm going to freeze," she whispered. 

Adrienne looked at the ground, kicking the snow with her now soaked running shoes. Something glimmered in the faint light coming from the few stars that had poked through the clouds. Adrienne tilted her head and bent down, sticking her fingers into the icy snow. The little sensation left in them quickly faded as Adrienne struggled to pick up a bronze knut. Adrienne straightened up and stared at the little coin lying in her hand. She then turned her attention to her blue fingers. 

'Where's the Perfect?' came the cold voice from the hallway. Adrienne shivered, trying to push it back into her memory. Her mind said it again. Adrienne swallowed and stared at the coin, her eyes watering in the freezing cold. 

"Perfects can do magic without a wand," she whispered. 

Adrienne shut her eyes and slowly let the image of a pair of gloves float into her mind. She focused her entire mind on it, temprorarily blocking out the cold, blocking out the pain shooting through her body as frostbite set in. With a last surge of concentration, she willed the single knut in her hand to transfigure into a pair of gloves. 

Adrienne stood there, at the edge of the train tracks, her hair wiping back behind her in the freezing wind, frozen tears adorning her cheeks, her right hand outstretched. Adrienne slowly forced her eyes to open and her face fell. She hadn't done it; a single bronze knut still lay in her hand, and no gloves were anywhere around her. 

"AHHHHH!" she screamed and with all her might threw the knut out over the tracks. It disappeared into the snow. Adrienne looked around her; the darkness of Christmas night pressing in on her, her entire body freezing, the bleakness of her situation finally pushing itself back into her mind. 

*** * * * ***

Voldemort strode out of his chamber, Lucius at his heels. 

"I want you to partially lock the barrier at King's Cross, Lucius; that way if she's already through it she can't go back, but keep the transfer from the Muggle world to the platform still open," Voldemort said, pulling on a thick pair of gloves. 

Lucius nodded and drew his wand. 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne shook her head; tears flowing down her face now. She had promised she'd escape, that she'd get to Hogwarts. She had promised Professor Glenn that, and now she was stuck. Adrienne turned and headed very slowly back to the barrier. 

"I'll never be able to follow the tracks to Hogwarts, I'll freeze," she mumbled, her lips cracking as she spoke. Adrienne took a deep breath before walking towards the gate. 

"Ouch!" she muttered, rubbing her nose and staring at the gateway in front of her. 

Adrienne stuck out a frozen, blue hand and tried to push it through: she met an invisible barrier. Her eyes widened in fear. 

"Someone there?" she called, now pounding her hands on the empty air, trying to break down the barrier. "Someone closed the barrier!" she whispered, horrified. 

Adrienne stepped back from it, raising a hand to her mouth, "I'm trapped." She turned and looked out over the large embankments of snow that were building up along the platform. Adrienne shivered in the building cold. 

"No!" she whispered, and slowly leaned back against the barrier. 

She slid down the invisible wall and settled on the ground, drawing her legs up to her chest and hugging them, tears flowing down her face, freezing within minutes. An intense fear took a hold of her heart, ensnaring her mind and her feelings, her entire body yelling at her, "You're going to freeze to death!" 

Adrienne shut her eyes and let the cold sweep over her. 

*** * * * ***

Harry flew closer to the ground and squinted against the snow attacking him from all sides. He could barely see, but he could just make out the faint glow of London below him, the light fighting through the snow. Harry flew into a steep dive, only pulling up when he was several feet above the rooftops. His eyes scanned the street and the shops; he had seen this part of London before. Harry smiled slightly and turned down a silent street, his smile widening when he saw the sign for King's Cross ahead of him: He had made it. 

*** * * * ***

"Joe, have you heard anything about Adrienne?" asked Mia, slowly pulling herself into a sitting position. 

Joe bent over to help his wife sit up. 

"No, Mia, I haven't. Julia said that the Ministries are looking for her, but they don't have a clue where to start," he said quietly, looking down at his worried wife. 

Mia's face fell. 

"Did they check the airport?" asked Mia thoughtfully, reaching for the glass of potion her doctor had left her. 

Joe nodded. 

"There's no record of an Adrienne Miles taking a flight to London since August, Mia," he said slowly, his heart filling with a cold dread: Perhaps she had never made it to the airport, perhaps she had succumbed to the cold in her attempt to get to Boston. Joe shut his eyes in horror. He felt a soft touch on his cheek and opened his eyes. Mia smiled at him slightly. 

"She wouldn't have given up like that; she wouldn't just give up," Mia replied. 

Joe smirked at her, "How did you know what I was thinking?" 

Mia smiled even more. 

"That's what you get from spending all your life dueling, you learn to anticipate the thoughts and actions of others," she said, her eyes sparkling for the first time since the attack. 

Joe shook his head. 

"All right, miss know-it-all, now what am I thinking," he said, leaning over a little more. 

Mia raised an eyebrow. 

"You're thinking it's about time we give our parents that grandchild they are always asking for," she said. 

Joe smiled victoriously and leaned back in his chair. 

"Oh, I hate to break it to you darling, but you are only partly right; some mind reader you are, fifty percent correct? I don't know about in yours, but in my classes that's failing," he said in the joking manner that had disappeared over the last 20 or so hours. 

Mia shook her head impatiently. 

"But I wasn't finished yet, stop rushing me," she said, taking a sip of her potion, her disgusted face making Joe laugh. 

"All right, soothsayer, continue," he replied. 

"And, your wondering if I would mind skipping through all the usual steps of parenthood and start at what, the age of fifteen?" she asked, raising her eyebrows victoriously. 

Joe sighed. 

"What do you think she'd say?" he asked quickly, looking down at his hands. 

Mia laughed. 

"Well now, Joe, you seem more nervous about this than you were about asking me to marry you," replied Mia. 

Joe looked up, his eyes glinting. 

"That's because if you said no, I was prepared to use desperate measures, mainly a certain unforgivable curse," he replied. 

"Ah, resorting to forced marriages, eh?" she asked, reaching for his hand. 

Joe leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. 

"What do you think she'd say if we asked her, Mia?" he asked again, his face serious and set. 

Mia looked at him. 

"I say, wherever she is, Joe, she is the only one who'll know that answer," Mia replied. She shook her head disbelievingly, "I still can't see her being a Perfect. I don't understand that at all." 

Joe looked at her. 

"She definitely doesn't live up to their reputation," he agreed and then turned his face serious again. 

"How can we be joking like this when she is out there alone, and possibly in danger?" he asked quickly, mentally criticizing himself for letting himself enjoy the last few minutes. 

Mia squeezed his hand. 

"That's because, Adrienne is safe, dear," she whispered. 

Joe looked at Mia curiously. 

"How can you be sure?" 

Mia smiled and looked around the white hospital room, her mind completely at peace. "Because." 

*** * * * ***

Harry landed in a dark corner of an alley next to the station. He ripped off his invisibility cloak and looked around to make sure that no one had seen him. He tucked his Firebolt under his winter cloak and ran towards the entrance, pulling open the heavy door and running in. Had there been no wind, he may have heard the slight popping from across the street, as two figures apparated in the dark. 

Harry looked around wildly, his eyes taking in the empty station. 

"Adrienne?" he called. 

No one answered and the coffee man looked up from his magazine, a curious expression flitting over his face as he looked at Harry's outfit. 

"Happy Christmas, sir!" Harry called and then started running towards the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. T

he coffee man shook his head, mumbled something about crazy gits and turned back to his magazine. 

Harry skidded to a stop in front of the familiar barrier, a smile of relief engulfing his face. He looked around him to make sure no one was watching and then stepped through the barrier. 

"Umph," he grunted as he landed face first in a pile of snow. 

"Oh, cold," he half shouted, pulling himself up and rubbing the part of his face that had hit the snow. 

He turned around to see what he had tripped over. 

"Adrienne?" he asked, running forward and kneeling down in front of her. 

It was Adrienne all right. Her head hung forward, her hair frozen from all the snow landing in it. 

"Adrienne, it's Harry, Adrienne?" Harry grabbed her shoulder and shook it. 

Her head lulled forward and bounced several times. 

"Adrienne!" Harry lifted up her head and gasped. 

Her face was white, a blue tinge swirled through it. Her hair was stuck to her face where it had frozen to her tears and to the blood from her frozen and cracked lips. Her eyes were half open, frozen tears shimmering in the corners. 

"Adrienne!" Harry said again, reaching down her neck, looking for a pulse. 

A weak, slow pulsation beneath his fingertips reassured him, and he reached again for her shoulders. 

"Come on, Adrienne, we have to get you back to the castle," he said, shaking her shoulders roughly. 

Adrienne's eyes moved slightly. 

"Harry?" she asked through her frozen lips. 

Harry nodded and pulled some of her hair from her face. 

"I'm so cold, Harry," she whispered. 

"I know, Adrienne, come on, stand up." Harry stood up and grabbed her hands. 

Adrienne didn't move. 

"Adrienne, hold my hand, I'll help you up," he said, his teeth beginning to chatter. 

"I can't move them," stuttered Adrienne. 

Harry bent down, reached his arms under hers, and heaved her up. 

"Can you stand?" he asked. 

Adrienne nodded slightly. Harry let go of her and pulled his Firebolt from under his cloak. It floated it front of him, waiting for him to mount it. Harry turned around to face Adrienne, who was swaying slightly in her effort to keep standing. 

"You have to sit behind me, I have to steer," he said, "Can you get on?" 

Adrienne nodded and stepped forward; with great effort, she mounted the broom, and hovered there, only holding on with her knees, nursing her frozen hands in front of her. Harry pulled out his invisibility cloak and threw it over her and, then, looked down at his gloved hands. He yanked off his gloves, reached under the cloak and found her hands, slipping them into his warm gloves. He checked his pocket for his wand, making sure it was still there, and then mounted his broom in front of her. 

"Hold on to my waist, that way you won't fall," he instructed, pulling the invisibility cloak over him and leaning forward to take off. 

"Where do you think the girl is?" a familiar voice pierced the night sky, and Harry felt Adrienne flinch behind him. 

He turned his head, and his heart skipped a beat. Standing behind him were two robed men, and a pair of evil red eyes that glinted in the darkness. 

"The Perfect, where is she?" asked the man again. 

Harry slowly leaned forward and took off. Adrienne tightened her grip as they slowly rose into the air. Harry was afraid to start off too fast, fearing she'd fall. Adrienne sat stiffly, trying to remember where she had heard that voice before, and then it hit her, he was the man from her dreams. She jerked around to look at the two men about twenty feet below them. The invisibility cloak slipped off her. Just at that moment, two red eyes pierced the darkness along with a shout. 

"She's up there! Stupify!" Voldemort yelled. 

"Harry, dive now!" Adrienne managed, ripping her lips again and the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. 

Harry dived, but not quick enough; the curse hit Adrienne, and she fell to her right, stunned. 

"Adrienne!" Harry shouted, catching her arm as she fell, his other arm reaching for his wand. 

He flattened himself against his broom; still hidden by his invisibility cloak. He tossed his left hand behind him and shouted "Impedimentia!" The flashes of ill-aimed curses behind him quit for several seconds, and Harry threw his invisibility cloak off his head, shoved his wand in his mouth, and grabbed Adrienne with both hands, yanking her up onto the broom in front of him. 

Several seconds passed and the impedimentia curse wore off, leaving Voldemort and Lucius staring up into the sky, watching Harry throw his invisibility cloak back over him and Adrienne. 

Voldemort cursed and hit Lucius upside the head in anger. 

*** * * * ***

Harry flew as fast as he could, leaning over Adrienne, one hand steering, the other holding onto his unconscious twin. He turned around several times, breathing hard, his heart thumping in his chest: he wasn't being followed. After several minutes, he slowed down and hovered in mid air, pulling his wand out of his mouth and pointed it at Adrienne. 

"Enervate" he whispered. 

Adrienne stirred and then screamed: she was leaning over the broom, her lower half on one side, her upper half on the other, and an inch or so of her stomach actually touching the broom. 

"Shh, I have you," Harry whispered, holding on tightly to the back of her sweater. 

"Pull me up!" she ordered, reaching up to try and grab the broom, but her hands wouldn't cooperate. 

"I'll land, hold on" Harry whispered. 

He entered a slight dive, worrying that if he dived to steeply she'd fly off the front. Once he landed, Adrienne rolled off and laid on the snow covered ground. 

"That, he, that man, he was, I've seen him, in my dreams, that's the man!" she whispered incoherently. 

Harry pulled her off the ground. 

"Well, he's back there, and we are up here, get back on," he whispered, helping her onto the broom again and mounting in front of her. 

He threw the invisibility cloak back over her and again flew into the air. They flew in silence, Adrienne struggling to stay awake, her arms gripping Harry's waist with all her quickly fading strength, her tired body ready to give up. 

"Why were you there, at the station?" she whispered into the silent night. 

"I came looking for you," Harry replied, checking his direction and then turning slightly to the right. 

Adrienne blinked several times. 

"Why?" she asked, hoarsely. 

"I couldn't let you freeze, could I?" Harry replied. vAdrienne didn't say anything, another wave of cold sweeping over her. She slowly shut her eyes and leaned forward, resting her head on Harry's back. Harry sat up straight. 

"Adrienne!" he called, elbowing her. 

Adrienne jerked back awake and sat back up. 

"That hurt," she whispered, struggling to regain her breath. 

"You have to stay awake, Adrienne," said Harry, leaning forward and flying at maximum speed, 'she's not going to last much longer,' he told himself, 'distract her.' 

"What happened last night, Adrienne?" he asked, rather stupidly and then cursed himself for asking such a dumb question. 

Adrienne shuddered, remember the images of all the dead people, of Professor Glenn making her promise to get to safety. She shut her eyes, tears again rolling down her face. 

"I don't want to talk about it," she whispered, her head nodding forward with exhaustion. 

"Ok, um, I really liked your present, Adrienne, you have no idea how much that means to me," replied Harry, his eyes searching desperately through the snowy sky; they should be almost there by now. 

Adrienne didn't reply. 

"Adrienne?" called Harry again. 

She didn't answer and Harry felt her grip loosen and her body fall against his, "Adrienne!" 

She didn't respond. Harry grabbed her hands and held them so she wouldn't fall off and turned his head; he couldn't see her, but saw her breath condensing in the air. 

"Hold on, Adrienne," he whispered, and leaned forward, telling himself that this was a game he couldn't afford to loose. 

After several minutes, a familiar mountain range came into view and Harry began a steep descent; he didn't want to miss Hogsmeade. Slowly, through the thick snow falling all around him, he began to make out the dark images of the little wizarding town below him. They were almost there. 

*** * * * ***

Hermione and Ron sat quietly in the Gryffindor common room, watching the dying fire in the fireplace, neither one of them willing to relight it. 

"Do you think they are all right?" asked Ron quietly, looking away from the flickering flames. 

Hermione looked at him. 

"I'm sure they are, Ron," was all she could manage to say. She wrapped her arms around herself and sighed. 

"Do you think he found her?" asked Ron suddenly. 

Hermione took a deep breath; logic told her that him finding Adrienne was nearly impossible, but her heart told her that if she gave up the faith, then it would make it even more impossible. 

"He seemed determined to; Harry has never failed at what he's set his mind on doing," Hermione answered, her eyes red from silent tears. 

The sound of the portrait door opening made the two friends jump. Hermione turned. Silhouetted in the doorway were two people, and she didn't have to take any wild guesses on who they were. 

"Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley?" asked Professor McGonagall as she stepped through the hole, Professor Dumbledore right behind her. 

"Yes, Professor?" asked Hermione wearily; she really didn't want to have to lie about where Harry was. 

"It's quite dark in here." Professor McGonagall pointed her wand at the fireplace, relighting the dying embers, and then tossed her wand at various torches, illuminating the silent room. 

"How is Harry doing?" asked Dumbledore, looking from the Hermione to Ron. Ron's eyes widened nervously. 

"Um, well, he's sure she'll be all right," said Ron unsurely. 

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow, taking in Ron's skeptical face. 

"Is he up in his dormitory?" asked Professor Dumbledore, his eyes piercing Hermione. 

Hermione looked away and shot a glance at Ron. 

"He's asleep and doesn't want to be disturbed," said Ron quickly, nodding his head rapidly, making him look exactly like he was hiding something. 

"Well, I must speak to him," said Professor Dumbledore, quickly striding towards the staircase. 

Hermione stood up. 

"No, really, Professor, he's fine. He just, um, needed to think and that's what he's doing. Just let him be," she said nervously, twisting her hands, deciding that lying to teachers was not her forte. 

Professor McGonagall raised her other eyebrow and shot a glance at Dumbledore. 

"Are you two hiding something?" she asked, eyeing Hermione and Ron suspiciously. 

"No, no." 

"Definitely not," finished Hermione, taking a step backwards. 

"Nope, just two friends, in a common room, not hiding anything," added Ron very quickly, nodding his head stupidly. 

"He isn't there is he?" asked Professor Dumbledore slowly. 

Hermione opened her mouth and then shut it. Ron just stood there. 

"Where did he go?" asked Professor McGonagall sternly, putting her hands on her hips. 

"To King's Cross, to find Adrienne," muttered Hermione, shaking her head; so much for keeping a secret. 

"Why does he think she's at King's Cross?" asked Professor McGonagall, paling; but Professor Dumbledore had already strode over to her and grabbed her arm. 

"Minerva, come; Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, you too." 

*** * * * ***

Harry smiled as the light of Hogwarts came into view, strong enough to penetrate the thick snow. Harry turned around to make sure Adrienne was still breathing; her breath was coming a lot slower now, and she was slipping to the right side of the broom. Harry had all he could do to hold onto her hands. 

"Just a little longer, Adrienne," he whispered into the night and began his descent, flying over the Quidditch pitch, his eyes locked on the Entrance Doors. 

*** * * * ***

Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall walked quickly through the castle, Ron and Hermione following their billowing robes. 

"You two," said Dumbledore, turning once they reached the Entrance Hall, "I want you to go down to the Whomping Willow and get Sirius. Don't startle him, or he might curse you. You need to bring him back to the castle at once." 

Hermione and Ron nodded and turned towards the large oak doors just as they burst open. Snow flew into the room; a bulky figure appeared in the doorway and slowly walked through the door. 

"Harry!" yelled Hermione, relieved as he came into view. 

Harry smiled halfheartedly and lowered Adrienne to the ground, unable to carry her anymore. 

"Is that Adrienne?" asked Professor McGonagall, racing forward with Professor Dumbledore. 

"Oh my goodness," gasped Hermione, raising a hand to her mouth in horror, falling back against Ron, who grabbed her shoulders to keep her upright. 

Adrienne lay on the ground, her face sheet white, her eyes shut, frozen tears running from her eyes down her face, frozen blood covering her lips. Professor Dumbledore bent down and slipped an old hand under her chin, feeling for a pulse. He didn't move for several seconds. Then, not bothering to conjure a stretcher, with greater strength than neither Harry, Ron, Hermione, or Professor McGonagall knew he had, lifted the girl off the now snow covered Entrance Hall and half ran in the direction of the hospital wing, the other four following behind in a silent procession of fear and hope. 


	22. Awakenings

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 22: Awakenings**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Severus Snape's eyes snapped open and he sat up straight in bed, listening closely to the pounding of feet above him. He sneered and got out of bed, narrowing his eyes and reaching around blindly for his robes. 

"You may be under some kind of traumatic stress right now, Potter, but if you think for one instant you'll get away with roaming the schools this year, you have another thing coming," he muttered, wrenching open his quarter doors and making his way into his office. 

Snape ran up the dungeon corridor, trying to remember where the footsteps were headed. He skidded out of the corridor into the Entrance Hall, his slippered feet slipping on the wet floor. 

"Blasted House Elves!" he yelled as he slid across the hall, his arms failing wildly. He skidded to a stop and then shouted a rude response at one of the nearby portrait occupants who was now doubled over in laughter. 

"Well you don't have to get rude about it," the portrait of Selma the Scared said scornfully. 

Snape glared at her and then looked around the room, looking at the puddles of water standing near the double doors. 

"Where did the water come from?" he asked Selma viciously. 

The pale girl shifted in her portrait to point at the double doors. 

"When he brought the girl in, the snow came in too," she said timidly now, not impressed with his tone, her hand shaking slightly. 

Snape raised an eyebrow. 

"Who brought who in?" he asked, drawing his wand and clearing away the melted snow. 

Selma looked at him. 

"The boy, when he brought her in. She looked pretty bad, she did; she looked dead," Selma answered. 

"WHO!" shouted Snape, his face reddening in anger, deciding to again attempt to convince Dumbledore to burn the ornery paintings adorning the school's walls. 

Selma shuddered and moved further back in her frame. 

"A Harry? Maybe that's what they called him. And the other, the girl, I don' t remember, an Aden or Madreien or, I don't know," Selma rambled, raising a shaking hand to her face in thought. 

"An Adrienne?" prompted Snape. 

"That's it, it was an Adrienne," said Selma, shaking her head in compliance. 

Snape turned on his heel and started running again, this time in the direction of the hospital wing. 

"You're welcome," said Selma snidely as he raced off. 

"Oh sod off!" called Snape over his shoulder, "Bloody portraits!" 

*** * * * ***

"What happened to her?" asked Madam Pomfrey frantically, rushing forward as Dumbledore lay Adrienne onto the nearest hospital bed. 

"She was out in the storm," he replied, reaching down and again taking her pulse, relieved to feel the pulsation under his fingertips, however weak it may be. 

"For how long!" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey, pushing herself in front of Dumbledore and rapidly flipping her wand at the girl, muttering spells Harry had never heard before. 

Harry stood by the door, unmoving, Hermione next to him, Ron still helping to hold her up. It looked like a scene from a nightmare: Adrienne lying there, in the faint light of the stars that had fought their way through the barrier of clouds providing the snow that had left Adrienne in the state she was now. Harry shook his head and took a step backwards. 

"You did the best you could do, Harry," whispered Hermione, finally recovering from the shock of seeing Adrienne like that. Hermione grabbed his arm. 

Harry didn't say anything at first and then lowered his head. 

"I should have done something sooner," he whispered, looking up at the lifeless girl, Madam Pomfrey's shouts about something concerning a pulmonary hemorrhage ringing in his ears. 

Now Professor Dumbledore was shouting for Hermione and Ron to go get Sirius. Harry closed his eyes, exhaustion finally catching up with him. He heard the echo of his friend's footsteps retreating behind him. He was alone now. Harry slowly opened his eyes and looked at Adrienne, except he wished he hadn't, and turned on his heel, a hand clamped over his mouth, the image of Adrienne, now covered in blood pasting itself before his eyes. Harry ran through the corridor, not quite sure where he was going to, but wherever he would end up would have to remain unknown. 

"Umpf!" 

Harry ran headlong into something, falling back onto the floor, his head hitting the stone floor. His eyesight faded quickly, and right before he lost consciousness his eyes registered the person above him, and he muttered, "Not you." 

"Wonderful to see you too, Potter. Your sister is ill and you're trying to get attention by fainting, eh?" snapped Snape, drawing his wand, "I can just see this sibling rivalry. Mobilicorpus." 

Harry rose into the air, his feet stopping inches off the ground, his hands at his sides, and his head lulled forward. Snape pointed his wand ahead of him and then again began to run, Harry unconsciously leading the way to the hospital wing. 

*** * * * ***

"I won't!" 

"Mia!" 

"No!" 

"Mia!" 

"You'll have to kill me!" 

"MIA! For the love of God - WAKE UP!" 

Mia's eyes snapped open, and she looked around her dark hospital room for several seconds before registering her husband's profile sitting next to her. 

"My goodness, woman!" Joe said, leaning forward and smoothing her hair out of her face. 

Mia looked up at him. 

"Horrible," she muttered, slowly sitting up in the darkness. 

Joe pulled his chair closer so his knees touched the side of the bed. 

"You have some set of lungs there, Mia. Gave me a headache just listening to you," he said, rubbing his head. 

Mia glared at him. 

"Dreaming about the Dark Lord, now are you?" he asked, lowering his hands and leaning forward to better see her in the faint moonlight. 

Mia turned away. 

"Hey, I understand, sometimes you're just attracted to the bad boys," he said and then raised his arms in defense as she threw the jug of water that was siting on the bedside table at him. 

"Joe, don't you even start," she whispered menacingly. 

Joe stared at his wife, wide-eyed, his entire top half and lap soaking wet, now massaging the spot where the corner of the jug had hit his temple. 

"Ok, so you're not in a joking mood, I can take a hint," he muttered. 

Mia glared at him. 

"That was a little cold, Mia," he said, standing up and walking over to where he had his cloak hung. 

"That's why they call it ice water," she replied, drawing her knees up to her chest and hugging them. 

Joe reached into a pocket and pulled out his wand. In an instant he was dry again and repocketing his wand. He turned to look at his wife, who now looked pitiful, like a child, sitting there helplessly on the bed. 

"Mia, I'm sorry, I was just, well, ok, I was being stupid," he said, walking over to her and sitting down on the hard hospital bed. Mia looked up at him. 

"I know, I'm sorry too. I just felt like throwing something, and you seemed like a good target," she replied angrily. 

Joe smiled. 

"Ah, just the scapegoat. Now that loses all excitement. See, I was kind of hoping I really pissed you off. Then we'd argue until you get out of here and then . . . if we had a really big row, we'd have to make up; I was all for the making up part," he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. 

Mia smirked and then broke into a huge grin. 

"You're the best, you know that Joe," she said, laughing. 

Joe put on a hurt face. 

"Laughing at me now, are you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Mia put a hand on his shoulder. 

"Oh stop feeling sorry for yourself," she said, shaking her head and smiling at him. 

Joe smirked. 

"And my attempt to start this row has failed. We never have any good fights, you know that," he said, narrowing his eyes. 

Mia burst into laughter again. 

"I'll keep that in mind," she replied. 

Joe smiled at her.

"You're really brave, you know that, Mia," he whispered. 

Mia looked at him and shifted herself, quite painfully, closer to him so she could rest her head on his shoulder. 

"I'm not, I'm quite stupid actually," she whispered. 

"And why is that?" Joe asked, turning his gaze out the window to look at the faint moon. 

"Because, who in their right mind would stay in that kind of situation and offer to duel the Dark Lord," she replied. 

Joe redirected his gaze to the top of her head and smiled slightly. 

"Someone who values a life of another more than their own," he replied. 

"I hope she's safe," Mia whispered. 

Joe looked away. 

"I thought you said she was," he replied, wrapping his arms around her tightly. "And I thought you didn't seem too sure of my divination abilities." 

"She's safe," Joe whispered. 

"And how do you know?" 

"Because, Mia, because I don't know what I'd do if she wasn't." 

*** * * * ***

With the click of Madam Pomfrey's office door, a pop resonated throughout the hospital wing. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape, and now Sirius Black, stood at the end of the wing, overlooking the girl lying before them. 

"She'll survive," Dumbledore answered quietly, shaking his head sadly, "Quite some holiday she's having." 

"And Harry went out and found her?" asked Sirius surprisedly, turning his attention to Harry, who was now under the influence of a powerful sleeping potion, lying several beds down. 

"Yes, perfect law-abiding Potter; at least he did something beneficial with this bout of rule breaking though," Snape said coolly. 

Sirius glared at him and Snape glared back. 

Sirius turned his attention back to the goddaughter he hadn't seen in fourteen years. Adrienne lay quietly on the bed, her hair pulled up out of her pale face, her mouth somewhat open to facilitate her ragged breathing. 

"What was with all the blood when I first came in?" asked Sirius, turning his attention to the discarded hospital pajamas lying on the floor, the entire top half covered with blood. 

"Pulmonary hemorrhage, from the hypothermia, had to use a Muggle technique for that one," Dumbledore replied, looking down at Adrienne. 

Her hands were wrapped in gaze to allow the potion to reverse the effects of frostbite to heal her hands. 

"They do look alike," muttered Sirius. 

"You can see a resemblance with her looking like she's been run over by a rampaging hippogriff?" said Snape shaking his head as if he thought Sirius was mad. 

"Really, now," barked Professor McGonagall, "Children, you two act worse than the children!" 

Professor Dumbledore turned and looked at the three people standing slightly behind him. 

"We should leave them to Madam Pomfrey, she's probably right now working up a rage about how we haven't let her treat them. You did send Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley back to their common room, right, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked. 

Professor McGonagall nodded. 

"They didn't seem too happy about it, but they are there now. Albus, you sent an owl to Headmistress Bell?" 

"I sent an express owl; it should be arriving in the states any minute, only takes an hour, these new express owls do," Dumbledore replied. He then turned to Sirius, "I suspect you'll want to stay with Harry and Adrienne?" 

With a pop, Sirius turned back into a dog and trotted over to take a seat next to Harry, correctly thinking that Madam Pomfrey would not be too thrilled about a dog sitting next to Adrienne, whom Madam Pomfrey was still believing would drop over dead any moment. 

"Thank you for the help, Severus," Dumbledore said, turning to the Potion's Master. 

"Yes, well, now if you don't mind, I'll return to my rooms," Snape answered and then turned on his heel. 

*** * * * ***

Professor Bell knocked quietly on the hospital room door and then pushed her way into the dark room. She smiled at Joe as she walked closer to the bed. Mia was asleep, her head still on his shoulder. 

"What I nice guy, sitting up all night just so his wife can use him as a pillow," she said. 

Joe smiled. 

"Yeah, well, nice guy, that's my middle name: Joe Nice Guy Glenn. What's new, Julia?" he asked, brushing some of Mia's hair out of his face. 

Julia sat down in Joe's usual chair and in an instant jumped back up. 

"It's wet!" she exclaimed, her mouth open in surprise. 

Joe laughed. 

"She threw a jug of ice water at me; thought it would vent her anger," Joe said. 

"I think I'll stand then," Julia replied, wiping the backside of her robes. 

"So?" 

"I just received an owl from Professor Dumbledore," Julia began. 

Mia sat up straight and rubbed her eyes furiously. 

"I thought you were asleep," said Joe incredulously. 

Mia shrugged. 

"I was pretending, anyways, I was comfortable there," she replied rubbing her eyes again. 

"You mean to tell me I've been sitting here letting all the muscles in my upper body get cramped up just because you were pretending to be asleep!" he exclaimed in quite identifiable mock-anger. 

Julia looked at him a little confused. 

"He's trying to start us in a row," explained Mia, shaking her head embarrasedly. 

Julia smirked and then started laughing. 

"You remember that one time you went around trying to instigate fights with her, Joe," Julia said between laughs. 

Now Mia started laughing too. Joe, however, seemed to have forgotten that event. 

"No, not really, should I?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in annoyance. 

"Joe, Adrienne caught on to that one. You remember, every time she looked at you she burst into laughter. She had to avoid you for a week that summer, remember?" said Mia, shaking her head. 

Joe laughed, once. 

"Oh yeah, when she was at that giggly stage. Gee, I didn't think my motive was that obvious," he said disappointedly. 

Julia laughed harder. 

"I think, if a twelve year old girl could see your motive, you were as obvious as anything," said Mia, shaking her head in laughter. 

Joe glowered. 

"Speaking of Adrienne, Julia, before we got on this pick-on-Joe fiasco, you were saying something about a Dumbledore, as in the Dumbledore from Hogwarts?" Joe asked, turning his attention to Julia. 

"The one and only. It seems that Adrienne has arrived there," Julia said, her smile fading off her face. 

"What's the matter? I thought we were supposed to be happy about that? Am I missing something?" asked Mia, taking in Julia's face. 

"She's quite sick. Turns out our 'genius' very intelligently decided to try and walk to Hogwarts during a snow storm," said Julia, shaking her head, "She must have lost her common sense some time that night." 

"That's understandable though. I mean, if that were me I would probably have never even made it to the Gallows; she made it to Hogwarts!" said Joe, protectively.

"Is she all right?" asked Mia slowly, again moving closer to her husband. 

Joe put an arm around her shoulder. 

"She is now, but she's unconscious," Julia replied. 

"Did he say anything else?" asked Joe, hoping for more information than just "she's unconscious." 

Julia looked back down at the letter. 

"Um, she's under that care of Madam Poppy Pomfrey for everything except her frostbite. That's being treated with potions by their Potions Master, Professor Severus Snape." 

"WHAT!" shouted Joe, jumping up and whacking Mia upside the head in the process. 

"Ouch," she muttered, rubbing her head in pain. 

Joe ignored her. 

"That moron is taking care of Adrienne?" he exclaimed. 

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore would not let him treat her if he was a moron, Joe," said Julia a little coolly. 

Joe shook his head. 

"That GIT! Who does he think he is taking care of her! He's the biggest idiot!" 

"Joe." 

"He's a . . . He's a . . . He's a . . ." Joe stuttered as all the horrible names he could think of left his head. 

"JOE!" 

"What, Mia!" he said, turning around. 

"Now that I have your attention, I don't want her to wake up alone, Joe. She's been through enough; someone should be there when she wakes up," Mia said, looking up at him with a pleading look in her eye. 

"Are you sure, Mia? I don't want to leave you alone while you're still recovering," Joe said hesitantly, momentarily forgetting that he was currently trying to think of different ways to curse Snape while there still being an ocean between them. 

Mia smiled. 

"I'm thirty-two, I've dueled the Dark Lord, and I once let Adrienne cut my hair; I think I'm quite capable of sitting alone in a hospital room," said Mia seriously. 

"Oh I bet old Snapie will love this; I'll relieve him of his duties," Joe said quite maniacally, walking over to retrieve his cloak. 

"Tell her Merry Christmas for me," Mia called after him. 

Joe turned, having all ready made his way to the room's door. 

"Oh yeah, forgot about you, honey," he said distractedly, rushing back and kissing her, "I'll tell her you'll come when those docs let you." 

And with that Joe rushed out of the hospital room, drawing his wand so when he got to the lobby he could disapparate. Mia stared after him with a surprised expression 

"I never once had any competition," she said, an amused smile engulfing her face, "never." 

Julia laughed. 

"Being replaced by a fifteen year old now?" she asked. 

Mia smiled and shook her head. 

"He really does care about her, you know that?" she said, smiling again, picturing how Joe put on a protective attitude when talking about Adrienne. 

"You both do," said Julia, turning to leave, "Go to sleep, Mia. He might drive her crazy if you leave her alone with him once she wakes up. I think you should get there as soon as possible, especially if he runs into that Ron person." 

Mia's smile slipped off her face. 

"Oh boy," she whispered. 

*** * * * ***

Harry slowly opened his eyes, squinting in the bright morning light that was pouring through the open windows. He raised a hand to block the light and slowly sat up, waiting for his eyes to focus, then realizing he wasn't wearing his glasses. He reached around blindly for the bedside table, finally finding his glasses atop a box of Kleenex. 

The entire room came into focus and Harry blinked. In the snow reflected light, the white hospital wing looked more dull and clean than ever before. A slight movement at this side drew his attention, and he turned. 

A black shaggy dog was sitting on the floor next to him, looking up at him and wagging his tail excitedly. 

"Hey, Sirius," Harry said hoarsely. 

The dog jerked its head slightly to the right. Harry made a confused face but followed Sirius' instruction. Lying at the other end of the room was Adrienne, but Harry couldn't see much of her, only part of her face and her hair: Someone was in his way. 

A man was sitting by her side, his back to Harry. Harry thought he could hear the low murmur of a voice carrying through the still air, and he turned onto his side to better hear what the man was saying. 

"You had us worried, Adri," the man said, his voice barely audible. 

Harry could see him reach up and stroke her face. 

"You have no idea how much; you have no idea. When they said they didn't know where you were, it, well, we didn't know what to think. We didn't know what to do. You were the first thing Mia asked about when she woke up, you know that, Adri?" 

Joe smiled slightly and looked down at the sleeping girl. Adrienne's hair was pulled back from her puffy face, her lips slightly open, the marks from where she had bit her lips and where they had cracked still visible. All in all, she still didn't look very great. Joe reached down and stroked her cheek. 

"If something would have happened to you, Adrienne, I don't know what I would have done. I don't know, Adrienne," he whispered. 

"You still don't know what happened that night do you? What are you, Adrienne?" he asked quietly, looking down at her now, confused. 

"What aren't you telling us? You know we'll always listen, right?" he asked, a tear rolling down his face. He brushed it away. 

"Professor Dumbledore said you lost your wand?" continued Joe, rambling, saying whatever question or comment came into his mind, hoping earnestly that she'd wake up. Adrienne didn't. 

"How did you escape, Adrienne?" he whispered. 

Harry laid in his bed, watching the back of the man, watching Adrienne's head, listening to him speak, the words making no sense in Harry's mind. Harry turned onto his back, watching the winter light of morning reflecting off the walls before him. Sirius came closer to his side and put his head on Harry's bed. Harry smiled at the dog and followed his gaze, his head turning to look at Adrienne, his ears catching another piece of spoken word. 

"Mia and I love you, Adrienne, and we won't let anything like this happen to you again, not if we have a say in it. We thought we were protecting you by making you leave, maybe that wasn't the best choice." 

*** * * * * **

Madam Pomfrey let Harry leave around noon that day, very reluctantly though, and only on Professor Dumbledore's orders. Harry slowly walked out of the room, now again wearing his school robes and carrying his winter cloak. He paused at the door and looked at the man still sitting next to Adrienne. He looked like he was asleep, quite awkwardly at that. His head bowed slightly to the left, propped up on one hand, his other hand on Adrienne's right arm, as her hands were still bandaged. Harry smiled slightly and then walked out of the hospital wing, never drawing Joe Glenn's attention. 

"Mr. Potter." 

Harry turned away from the portrait of the Fat Lady to see who had called him. Professor Dumbledore was walking towards him, a small, reassuring smile on his face

. "Harry, I'd like a word with you," Professor Dumbledore said, stopping at his side and looking down at him through his half-moon spectacles. 

Harry cast a reluctant glance at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room; he had really wanted to speak with Ron and Hermione. Harry turned back to Dumbledore and nodded. *** * * * ***

Joe twitched in his sleep and then jerked awake, looking around the hospital wing, wondering where he was. Then he caught sight of Adrienne, lying before him. 

"Hey, cutie," he whispered, reaching up and stroking her cheek, "Don't feel like waking up by any chance, do you?" Adrienne didn't respond and Joe smiled slightly, "Always had to be ornery, eh?" 

Adrienne didn't move. Joe closed his eyes again and slowly let sleep drift over him. 

"I thought you were talking to me," said a slow, hoarse voice. 

Joe's eyes snapped open. 

"Adrienne!" he exclaimed. 

Adrienne smiled slightly and then winced. 

"Where's Professor Hartel?" she asked slowly, images of the past twenty-four hours starting to flicker through her mind. 

Joe patted her arm reassuringly. 

"At Darthmouth, she's fine," he said. 

Adrienne smiled again. 

"Good. Where am I?" she asked, slowly turning her head to look around the bright room. 

"At Hogwarts, goof, where else would you think you'd be?" 

Adrienne turned and looked at him, an odd expression on her face, one which Joe couldn't read. 

"In heaven," she whispered, her smile flickering off her face. 

Joe's face fell. 

"What happened after you left, Adrienne?" he asked quietly. 

Adrienne looked at him and then shifted her face to a corner of the room. 

"Stuff." 

Joe leaned over and reached for her left cheek, slowly turning her face back to look at him. 

"You know, Adrienne, if something's going on that you want to talk about . . ." he began, but Adrienne had already shut her eyes, trying to ignore him. 

Adrienne heard Joe sigh and slowly let go of her face. Adrienne turned her head to the opposite side and opened her eyes to stare at the wall, the same feeling that had been troubling her since Christmas Night again pervading her soul and mind: It was all her fault. 

Joe looked at her in silence for several minutes, a confused expression on his face. He slowly stood up from his chair. 

"I'm going to send an owl to Mia, to tell her you're awake, all right kid?" he asked. 

Adrienne turned back to look at him, her face expressionless, her eyes dulled in a way that made Joe's heart wrench. She nodded her approval. Joe turned and walked away, his minding screaming at him that something was bothering her. Once out of the hospital wing, Joe stopped to lean back against a wall and close his eyes, half in exhaustion, half in worry. *** * * * ***

"Harry, first off, I'd like to say that was a very brave thing you did last night," Professor Dumbledore started as Harry took a seat in his office. Dumbledore walked around his desk, "Even if it was quite dangerous." 

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. 

"I couldn't let her freeze," Harry responded. 

Dumbledore smiled. 

"Of course not, Harry; If you hadn't have found her, she'd probably be dead now," Dumbledore said, his eyes dulling slightly. 

Harry looked down. 

"No, Voldemort would have gotten her. He was there, at the station," Harry said, looking back up at the Headmaster, his hands unconsciously clenched in his lap. 

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. 

"He was?" Dumbledore prompted, leaning forward in his chair. 

Harry nodded. 

"He came right after we had lifted off. He and someone else; they stunned Adrienne, but that's all. We had too much of a head start." 

Dumbledore nodded and waited for Harry to continue, but Harry didn't. Harry sat there in silence, looking at the elderly man before him, questions quickly forming in his mind. 

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked quickly. 

"Yes, Harry?" replied Dumbledore, leaning back into his chair and reaching for a sheet of parchment. 

"Why did Voldemort want her?" he asked quietly, hoping for an answer other than the one he was dreading. 

Dumbledore looked at Harry intently, his blue eyes piercing through him, again making him feel as if he was being x-rayed somehow. Dumbledore didn't say anything for several minutes and then slowly stood up, walking over to where Fawkes was perched. 

"What, Harry, do you know about Adrienne?" asked Dumbledore, looking at him sharply. 

Harry thought for a second. 

"I know her surname isn't Miles, she's an expert dueler, and she is the clumsiest person I've ever met," said Harry thoughtfully, wondering what kind of question that was. 

"That isn't exactly what I meant, Harry. What do you know about her; has she ever told you anything odd, or have you noticed anything odd about her?" Dumbledore asked. 

Harry looked at him for a moment, thinking quickly. 

"No, besides that she's mastered the art of falling down anything and tripping over anything," Harry replied quietly. 

Dumbledore smiled slightly. 

"She's quite good at keeping secrets," Dumbledore said calmly, turning to look at the bookshelf next to Fawkes' perch. 

The room filled with an awkward silence, and as Dumbledore searched for a book, Harry turned his mind back to Adrienne. Harry didn't know what exactly Dumbledore thought he knew about her. 'Anything odd?' Harry asked himself, and then it dawned on him. 

"Something odd, Professor?" he clarified. 

Dumbledore turned around, his hand falling away from a book he had made to pull out. 

"When I duel her, sometimes, no a lot of the times, it's almost as if her spells issue before she finishes the incantation," Harry said, wondering if this was something Dumbledore had been looking for. 

"You've noticed that too? I see," Dumbledore said quietly, walking away from the bookshelf and taking his seat back behind his desk. "Anything else, Harry?" 

Harry shook his head. 

"So, what kind of wand does she have that can anticipate her spells like that?" Harry asked, not quiet understanding how this had anything to do with why Voldemort had attacked the Gallows and Salem. 

"It has nothing to do with her wand," Dumbledore replied. 

Harry looked at him, a confused expression engulfing his face. 

"It don't think I quiet understand," Harry replied. 

"If you are worried that Voldemort tried to capture Adrienne to use against you, that isn't entirely true, partly, but there's something before that, Harry. And that is only Adrienne's business," Dumbledore replied, "I'm not at liberty to disclose anything about Adrienne that you don't all ready know." 

Harry's jaw dropped. He had been sure that Dumbledore would answer his question; he had told him about the Longbottoms, and now he wasn't even going to tell him about his own sister. Harry made to argue, but them stopped, reminding himself that he'd never be able to persuade Dumbledore to tell him. Harry smiled weakly. 

"Thanks anyway then, Professor," Harry said, standing up. 

"Harry, when she's awake, she'll want to see you. But remember, what you know, she doesn't; so be careful what you say," Dumbledore said, standing up and walking Harry to the door. 

"You aren't going to tell her?" Harry asked incredulously. 

Dumbledore smiled sadly. 

"Of course I am, just not right after she wakes up, that might put her over the edge; I daresay, she's had enough surprises lately to last her a lifetime," Dumbledore said, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. 

*** * * * ***

"Harry!" 

Hermione and Ron came racing through the common room as the portrait door shut behind him. Harry smiled at them and braced himself as they rammed into him, engulfing him into a large hug. 

"Ok, I get the picture, let go, I can't breathe," he gasped, his face turning slightly red. 

Hermione and Ron stepped back. 

"Oh, sorry," Ron mumbled, a little embarrassed. 

Hermione just smiled at him. 

"You did it, Harry," she said, her face full of pride and worry, a single tear welling in one of her eyes. Harry smiled at her. 

"Is Adrienne all right?" asked Ron, biting his lip nervously, "I couldn't sleep last night, I was so worried." 

Harry laughed. 

"She's fine, Ron, breathe," said Harry, watching as Ron quickly stopped holding his breath. "I don't know, you seeing my sister, how am I supposed to feel about that," Harry said sarcastically. 

Ron's eyes widened. 

"I wouldn't have a problem with you liking Ginny," he said defensively. 

"I'm joking, Ron, calm down," Harry shot quickly, taking in Ron's quickly angering face. 

Hermione started laughing. 

"Oh, just playing along," Ron muttered, embarrassed. 

Harry smiled at him and then cast an amused glance at Hermione, who was still smirking and stifling laughs. 

"That professor of hers, the one she talks about, the funny one, I think he's here," Harry said, turning back to Ron. 

"How do you know?" said Ron, curiously. 

"Because he was sitting by her bed talking to her while I was in there . . ." 

"She's awake!" exclaimed Ron, running past Harry, towards the portrait hole. 

"She wasn't when I left," Harry called after him, but Ron was already gone. 

"So I guess we're taking a field trip to the hospital wing," Hermione said, reaching for Harry's hand and following after Ron, "I'm really glad you found her, Harry." 

Hermione had stopped walking now and had turned to look at him. Harry smiled. 

"Me too." 

*** * * * ***

When Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked into the hospital wing, Adrienne was sitting up and talking quietly with Joe Glenn. The three walked in quietly, not drawing their attention. 

"All my books and homework are still at Salem, Professor," Adrienne said, taking a goblet of potion from Professor Glenn. 

"I'll get them for you before your term starts," he replied, taking back the goblet and laughing at her face, "That's the same face that Mia made every time she drank it."

Adrienne laughed slightly. 

"Is she going to come sometime soon?" she asked, looking down at her still bandaged hands. 

"When the doctors say she can leave, she will." 

Adrienne looked up, shaking her head a little to get her hair out of her face. 

"What about the others, like Professor Mondel. I want to talk to him, tell him I got in a fight again, he'd be proud of me," said Adrienne quietly, talking for the first time about something that had happened that night. 

Joe's face fell. 

"When did you get in a fight, Adrienne?" he asked. 

Adrienne turned away. 

"I just want to talk to Professor Mondel sometime," she mumbled. 

Joe didn't say anything; he looked down at his hands, which were folded in his lap. Adrienne slowly turned, ready to ask why he wasn't responding, but her eyes caught sight of the three standing in the doorway. 

"Hey you guys," she said as loud as she could, which was barely above a whisper. 

Harry smiled and walked forward, Hermione behind him, and Ron bring up the rear, blushing furiously now. 

"You look good," said Hermione wearily. 

Adrienne laughed. 

"Right, that's it, stick to the truth Hermi, you're a horrible liar," she replied. 

Hermione blushed. 

"Well, you look better than you did before," she said a little defensively. 

Adrienne's smile faded slightly. 

"Professor Glenn, these are my friends, Harry, Hermione, and . . . Ron," said Adrienne, saying Ron's name a little tentatively. 

Professor Glenn turned and looked at them, smiling, his eyes looking over each face, trying to discern this Ron person. 

"Nice to meet you," he said, standing up, his eye's taking in Harry's scar and flitting right on to Ron, knowing exactly who the red head was now. 

He raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to speak again, but Adrienne interrupted him. 

"Professor," she said, drawing out his title in annoyance. 

Joe turned, smiling sheepishly. 

"Just was going to start a conversation," he said. 

Adrienne glared at him. 

"Conversation, my foot, Professor," she said in mock-anger. 

Joe sighed and sat down. 

"I'll just sit and listen, is that fine with you, your highness?" he asked. 

Adrienne nodded and then smiled. 

"Did ya get my presents?" she asked, her voice slightly rising in excitement. 

"Yep," Hermione said, "I gave them out, just like you asked." 

"I tried to tell you thanks last night, Adrienne, but it seems you decided to take a nap," Harry interjected. 

Adrienne raised an eyebrow. 

"And a very good pillow you made too," she replied and then added, "Thanks, Harry." 

Harry walked closer to her bed, leaving Hermione and Ron behind. 

"No problem; like I said, I couldn't let you freeze," he said. 

"How did you know where I was?" Adrienne asked, turning to look at him, but before he could answer, another voice rang through the room. 

"Adrienne!" 

Adrienne turned sharply, registering the voice, her eyes lighting up, her mouth open in surprise. 

"Professor Hartel!" she yelled, and then started coughing horribly. 

"Don't kill yourself now, Adri," Mia said as she slowly walked over to her bed, limping slightly. 

"Look at you, you're falling apart," Adrienne gasped, pointing at her with a bandaged hand. 

Mia shrugged. 

"Small price to pay to see you again," she replied. 

Adrienne's smile left her face. 

"Who did that to you?" she asked slowly.

Mia looked quickly at Joe, who sighed. 

"That doesn't matter, Adri," she said, walking over and sitting on her husband's lap, patting Adrienne's arm. 

Adrienne didn't move. She didn't have to ask what happened, she knew that Professor Hartel had been hurt trying to protect her. Adrienne looked away. 

"Honey, what's the matter?" Mia asked quietly. 

"She won't tell me either, Mia," Joe whispered in her ear. 

Harry slowly walked back to stand next to Hermione and Ron, looking at Adrienne strangely. The room filled with an awkward silence, and Mia just stared at Adrienne, who now had her head turned completely away from the two on her side. Mia turned and looked at her husband, who just shook his head. 

"I want to tell Professor Mondel about my fight," Adrienne whispered. 

Mia swallowed hard. 

"Honey, you can't," she replied. 

"Send him an owl, I want to tell him," Adrienne repeated. 

Mia stood up and walked around the bed. 

"Adrienne, I can't send him an owl either," she whispered, kneeling down. 

Harry took a deep breath, knowing exactly what was coming. 

"It isn't that hard, Professor, you can use Hecate," Adrienne whispered. 

"Adrienne," Mia said, reaching up to put a hand on her shoulder. 

Adrienne rolled away. 

"Don't touch me, I want to talk to Professor Mondel," she said, her voice louder, trying to blot out the little voice in her mind saying over and over, "It's your fault." Adrienne clenched her hands. 

"Joe?" Mia asked, pleadingly. 

Joe shook his head. 

"She's been like this the entire time," he mouthed. 

"Adrienne, you can't talk to Professor Mondel, he's, oh dear . . . he's . . ." 

"GET OUT!" Adrienne screamed, sitting up bolt in her bed. 

"You're going to hurt yourself, Adrienne," Joe said worriedly, reaching to help her lay back down. 

"GET OUT! ALL OF YOU! GET OUT!" she screamed, irritating her throat and causing her to cough. 

"Adrienne, calm down," Mia whispered, reaching for her too. 

Adrienne ducked her grasp and rolled out of bed, standing up quickly, the world starting to spin, tears starting to fall down her face. 

"GET OUT!" she screamed again, walking clumsily away from the bed and the people surrounding it. 

Mia stared at her, a shocked expression engulfing her face. 

"GET OUT!" Adrienne backed away from them. 

Harry, Hermione, and Ron's eyes widened and they quickly left of the room. Mia and Joe walked towards her. Adrienne backed up more, hitting the wall. 

"Get out," she whispered, sliding down the wall and sitting on the floor. 

"Please leave me alone," she moaned, crying heavily now. 

Mia cast a glance at Joe and then knelt down beside her. 

"Adrienne, don't cry, you'll make yourself worse," she said, reaching forward and pulling the girl into a tight embrace. 

"Don't touch me," she whimpered. 

Mia didn't let go. 

"Shh, don't cry, Adrienne," she whispered. 

Joe walked over and sat down next to his wife. 

"It's all my fault," Adrienne whispered, her face buried in Mia's shoulder, her tears soaking through her robes. 

"Nothing is your fault, Adrienne." 

Adrienne shook her head. 

"That's where you're wrong, Professor, that's where you're wrong." 


	23. The Importance of Being Adrienne

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

Author's Note: The title of this chapter is stolem from Oscar Wilde's masterpiece "The Importance of Being Earnest." 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 23: The Importance of Being Adrienne**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Harry stared quietly through the glass in the hospital wing door, watching the darkening light of dusk slipping through the room, watching Adrienne siting quietly in her bed, her knees up to her chest, her head resting on them. He reached for the door handle and made to open it, but stopped, turning his head to hear the filtered conversation floating through the tense air that had engulfed the castle with Adrienne's arrival. 

"What is it that she can't tell us." The voices drew closer and Harry squinted down the corridor, trying to discern who was speaking. 

"She didn't say anything, nothing at all? She didn't say anything in her sleep, Joe?" came a woman's voice. Harry slowly backed up against the hospital door, trying to flatten himself against it, wanting to hear what they were saying. 

"Nothing, except she got in a fight and she wanted to tell Ralph about it," Joe replied as he and Mia came better into Harry's view. Harry's green eyes flashed around the corridor, trying to find a hiding place. A statue of an old wizard several feet away from him caught his attention, and he ran towards it, grabbing the wizard's outstretched hand and swinging himself around the statute, ducking down behind it. 

"What is this business about it being all her fault?" Joe asked as the two stopped at the hospital wing entrance. Mia shook her head. 

"That's Adrienne for you, always talking in code. Remember that staff meeting, when she said she just _had_ to go to Hogwarts... and that was her only reason, that she just _had_ to?" Mia asked, shifting her feet so she could better see Adrienne through the window. Joe turned. 

"Yea, and what was that about?" Joe replied, looking at his wife and shaking his head slightly. Mia didn't answer but instead just sighed. 

"That Potter boy, he's the one who went after her, Mia," Joe continued, now walking even closer to the window and staring intently at Adrienne, who still was staring at her knees. 

"They look alike, Joe," Mia replied, taking several steps backwards until she was leaning against the corridor wall. Joe turned, raising an eyebrow, which Mia couldn't see in the dark corridor. 

"What does that have to do with anything, Mia?" he asked shortly, his nerves finally beginning to show the wear of the last few days. Mia looked past him, through the hospital window, her eyes resting on Adrienne, who had now looked up and was staring at the ceiling. 

"Just an observation," Mia muttered, "Look, Joe." Joe followed Mia's finger through the glass to Adrienne, who's yells were audible through the closed door. 

"It isn't true!" Adrienne screamed, standing up on her bed, swaying slightly. Harry fought the urge to jump up and run past the two professors to tell her she'd fall. Mia thought the same thing and rushed towards the door, but Joe grabbed her. 

"She isn't going to hurt herself, let her talk," he whispered, pulling Mia slightly down the corridor so Adrienne wouldn't see them if she looked through the window. 

"You're wrong! You know that? You came for the wrong person! It's not me. Not me!" 

"Who is she talking to?" Mia whispered, knowing the answer. 

"You-know-who," Joe replied, swallowing hard. 

"Do you hear me! It's not me! I'm Adrienne Miles, no one else. You're wrong!" Adrienne slowly sat back down on her bed, breathing heavily, a small smile on her face. 

"It was all a horrible mistake; he didn't know what he was talking about," she whispered to herself. Adrienne's smile grew wider and she pulled her knees back up to her chest. 

"Me, a Perfect?" she whispered to the dark. 

No one answered except the slight howling of the wind and the branches through which the wind was rushing. The wind slowly faded away and the hospital wing filled with a silence that slowly pressed in on Adrienne, coming from every direction, surrounding her. Adrienne stiffened, her smile fading off her face because with the silence came the voice that had been taking over the back of her mind, haunting her, tormenting her. 

'You can't keep lying to yourself,' came the echoing voice. Adrienne shuddered and slowly raised her hands to her head. 

'Do you know what you are capable of?' Adrienne slammed her eyes shut. 

'You're not Adrienne Miles. You're not Adrienne Miles. You're not Adrienne Miles,' echoed the voice as Adrienne grabbed her hair. 

"Be quiet, be quiet, be quiet, stop, shut up!" she whispered, starting to rock slightly atop the sheets, pulling her hair, forcing her eyes shut. 

'You're not Adrienne Miles.' Adrienne's eyes snapped open. 

"Then who the hell am I?" she screamed into the dark room, causing the three people in the hallway to jump in surprise. 

*** * * * ***

"Were you able to talk to her at all, Harry?" Hermione asked as he walked through the portrait hole. Harry shook his head. 

"She was arguing with thin air for a while," he replied, walking over to where she and Ron were working on homework, Ron rather reluctantly. 

"So, decided to start on your homework, since you only have a week left, eh?" Harry asked, pulling out a seat next to him. Ron looked up with a very annoyed expression playing on his face. 

"She wouldn't shut up until I agreed, that annoying git," he said, glaring at Hermione, who just rolled her eyes in return. 

"Those professors of hers were saying some interesting stuff though, mainly about there being no real reason for her desire to come to Hogwarts, or at least not that they knew of," Harry said, reaching for one of Ron's text books. Hermione looked up from a library book about dreams. 

"Did they say anything else?" she asked, staring at Harry. 

"No, they have no idea what is going on with her; seems she likes to refrain from telling them much," Harry replied, "She was yelling into the dark that she's Adrienne Miles, that she isn't anyone else, that Voldemort came for the wrong person." Hermione took a deep breath. 

"She doesn't know, Harry, someone should tell her," Hermione replied. Ron nodded. 

"Yeah, that'll cheer her up, to know that she's not as alone as she thought," Ron said, not looking up from his Potions' essay. Harry shook his head. 

"I don't think it'll cheer her up." 

Hermione and Ron stared at him, confused expressions covering their faces. Harry didn't say anything, just looked around the empty common room. Hermione stood up slowly, and then walked around the table to stand between the two boys. 

"Why do you say that?" Hermione asked cautiously. Harry shifted in his chair uncomfortably. 

"That day I was late getting back from Quidditch practice, the day that Adrienne brought my broom back," Harry began, mainly as a diversion. 

"What about it?" Hermione asked, sitting down on the table. Ron turned in his chair to look at Harry through the flickering torchlight. 

"Professor McGonagall asked me what was on the other side of a mirror." 

Ron raised an eyebrow. "What kind of question is that, a reflection, obviously," Ron interrupted. 

"That's what I thought too, at first," Harry said quietly. 

"But it isn't just a reflection, it's a reflection of reality, it shows the world, just backwards," Hermione said. Harry nodded. 

"I don't get it," Ron said, "What are you two on about?" 

"McGonagall was giving you a hint, Harry," Hermione said, raising her eyes to the ceiling in thought. 

"A hint about what?" asked Ron, leaning forward in his chair. 

"McGonagall knew who Adrienne was," Harry said. 

"I don't see how you were supposed to see that Adrienne was your sister by thinking about what was on the other side of the mirror," Ron interrupted, shaking his head. 

"She wanted him to look at his reflection, to stare at it, trying to figure out what she had meant. There's no answer to her question besides it's just a reflection, but she made it sound like there was one. That way Harry would think about it, trying to figure out what his reflection meant, and hopefully he'd realize that when he looked at Adrienne, it was almost like looking in the mirror. It was just a hint, an unconscious one. He'd never make the connection to Adrienne if he didn't truly see the physical similarities," Hermione said, still staring at the ceiling. 

"There's more," Harry said, drawing Hermione's attention away from the ceiling, "Professor Dumbledore told me Voldemort didn't want her just to use against me, he told me there's another reason." 

"And that is?" prompted Ron. 

"He said it's only Adrienne's business," Harry muttered. Ron shook his head. 

"But you're her brother," he argued. Harry looked at his friend, who looked pale in the torchlight, his red hair accentuated even more with the presence of the flames. 

"Physically, but not emotionally. She thinks I'm just her friend," Harry replied. Hermione looked back up at the ceiling. 

"She's not telling us something," Hermione muttered. Harry leaned back dejectedly in his seat. 

"And we're not telling her something either, we equal." 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne rolled over in her bed, keeping her eyes shut, knowing that Mia and Joe were waiting for her to wake up. She didn't want to talk to them. She didn't want to look at them. She didn't want them asking her questions. Adrienne swallowed hard and buried her face in her pillow, her mind racing in front of her eyes, making her feel as if she were in a movie theater, strapped to a chair, her eyes taped open, forced to watch a replay of everything that had happened since Joe had woken her up Christmas night. Adrienne clenched her hands and bit her lip, trying to force from her mind the image of the burned girl lying in the street. 

Adrienne slowly rolled over and opened her eyes slightly. Joe and Mia were asleep on the hospital bed next to her. Adrienne opened her eyes all the way and slowly sat up, looking at her professors. Mia was lying on her side, a washcloth on her forehead: She had been complaining about headaches since she arrived. Joe lay behind her, his arm around her waist. Adrienne stared at them for several minutes and then slowly looked away. She looked around the dark hospital room, following the streaks of light provided by the dim moon. She stood up and walked awkwardly to the nearest window and looked out over the white lawn. 

Mia slowly opened her eyes and watched Adrienne standing next to the window, the moonlight bouncing off her, making her look pale, almost like a ghost. Adrienne looked down at her bandaged hands and slowly raised her right hand to her mouth, grabbing the end of the bandage with her teeth. After several seconds, the white bandages, the insides covered with a dry gray potion, fluttered to the floor. Adrienne stood silently in front of the window and slowly moved her fingers, raising her hand in front of her face. 

Mia squinted in the dark and leaned over slightly. In the moonlight, on the middle of Adrienne's right hand, a triangle was glinting, shining, as if it produced its own light. Mia shook her head and looked back at Adrienne, who was staring at her hand, at the triangle. Adrienne closed her eyes. 

*** * * * ***

"How are you feeling?" asked Hermione as the three pushed their way, past an enraged Madam Pomfrey, into the hospital wing. 

"She didn't sleep well last night, she needs her rest; and may I remind you that this is not a socializing spot, this is a hospital wing!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed as she followed the students towards Adrienne's bed. Adrienne laughed. 

"I'm fine, really, let them in," she said, sitting up and tossing her hair behind her head in a way that made Joe turn to see if that Ron boy was watching. 

"You're just as bad as him!" Madam Pomfrey snapped, gesturing towards Harry, and then turned on her heal to stomp back to her office. Adrienne raised her eyebrows and nodded her head. 

"Wow, she's just a little uptight, isn't she?" she said as Harry, Ron, and Hermione stopped at her bedside, right next to where Mia and Joe were sitting. Adrienne turned and smiled sweetly at them, giving them an expectant face, which Mia had no trouble reading at all. 

"Joe, I'm hungry, come down to the kitchens with me," said Mia, standing up and reaching for her husband's hand. Joe looked longingly from Adrienne to the blushing redhead standing behind Harry. 

"No, I think I'll stay here, if you don't mind," he replied, mentally promising himself that he was not leaving Adrienne alone with a teenage boy, even if her friends were there. Mia scowled and grabbed his shoulder. 

"Joe, I do mind; I want to go down and eat, with YOU," she said, emphasizing the last word. 

"I'm not hungry, darling; I'll stay here . . ." In a second Mia had drawn her wand, tilted her head, and raised an eyebrow. 

"Let me rephrase that, Professor Glenn, get out of that chair, or I will make you. Then you'll be the one spending your nights at Dothberg, and I won't be there, waiting for you to wake up; I'll be eating. Now, are you going to be a good little boy and follow my verbal directions, or must I demonstrate this for you?" she asked in a tone that made Harry think immediately of McGonagall. Adrienne smirked. Joe shifted slightly, then slowly stood up, casting a long glance from Adrienne to Ron, shaking his head slightly. 

"I see your point, Professor," he mumbled, walking out ahead of Mia, who slowly lowered her wand and turned to look at Adrienne, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. 

"Worse than my students, he is," she whispered, "Only way to get him to listen, threaten him." 

"They seem like an interesting couple," Hermione commented, taking the seat where Joe had been sitting just moments before. Adrienne turned in her bed. 

"Yeah, well, they sure are funny. Never was a dull day at Salem with those two, honestly, they fight more than anyone I know," Adrienne said, shaking her head in amazement. 

"Feeling better, Adrienne?" Harry asked, walking closer to her bedside. Adrienne looked at him. 

"I feel as fine as I could be, what with nearly being cursed to pieces, frozen, and then flown halfway across a country by a black-robed hero on a Firebolt," she said, raising a hand to her forehead in a pretend faint. 

"Glad you're feeling back to normal," replied Harry, trying not to laugh. Ron raised an eyebrow, obviously not amused. Adrienne opened her eyes. 

"Normal? Since when was she normal?" asked Hermione, trying to join in on the sarcasm game, which she had never actually mastered. Adrienne raised her eyebrows defensively. 

"I am too normal," she shot, her expression turning stony. Harry shot a quick glance at Hermione, rolling his eyes at her for making Adrienne act defensive again. 

"I was joking, Adrienne," Hermione answered quickly. Adrienne looked around at the shocked face Ron was wearing, then to Harry, who was still staring annoyed at Hermione. Adrienne took a deep breath. 

"Right," she said rather quickly, mentally chastising herself for thinking they were about to call her a Perfect, thus starting that entire voice thing again. Ron's and Harry's faces relaxed and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Adrienne turned her attention to Ron. 

"I got a dress," she said, trying to change the subject. Ron smiled slightly. 

"It's back at the castle, and whether it's wearable now or not is still questionable; however, if it hasn't been cursed, burned, or ruined, I still have it. If it has been tortured in any way, shape, or form, Professor Hartel will go buy me another one, provided you guys lock Professor Glenn in the dungeons first. He wasn't too thrilled about my dress selection abilities; but come to think about it, he'd probably prefer me to wear a nun outfi." 

*** * * * ***

Minerva McGonagall stood in the corner of the kitchen, holding a cup of tea in one hand and gesticulating angrily with the other. 

"Severus, keep your mouth shut!" she snapped, glaring at Snape, who stood several feet away from her, his face impassive. 

"I was just saying that we could make it quite entertaining if we don't tell her right away," he said snidely.

"Albus, she's gone fifteen years not knowing, it's about time that she's told who she is," McGonagall snapped, turning to look at Professor Dumbledore, who was sipping a cup of hot chocolate. 

"Yes, I agree, Adrienne must be told; however, I'm not sure of the best way of going about it," he said thoughtfully, lowering his mug. 

"It can't be that much harder than telling Potter," McGonagall exclaimed, putting down her cup in fear of smashing it over the sparkling marble floor. 

"You forget, _Deputy-Headmistress_, that Miss Granger told Potter for us," Snape said, a small smirk playing on the corners of his lips, she hated it when he called her that. 

"How many times must I ask you to call me Minerva?" McGonagall shot, glaring at Snape with an expression which would have caused the majority of her students to wet themselves in fright. Snape returned the same expression. Dumbledore shook his head. 

"And how many times must I ask you two to stop with these incessant insults?" Dumbledore asked, shaking his head disappointedly. McGonagall straightened her face, pulled on her robes, and in an instant replaced her combative demeanor with a more professional one. 

"All I'm saying, Headmaster, is that the longer we wait to tell her, the greater the chance that complications arise," she said, the noise of her feet shifting muffling the entrance of two people on the far side of the kitchen. 

"What do you propose then, Deputy-Headmistress?" asked Snape, his voice filled with excessive sarcasm, "Should we just waltz into the hospital wing and tell little Miss I'm-Going-To-Be-The-Downfall-Of-The-Modern-Magical-World-As-We-Know-It that her name isn't Adrienne Lily Miles, that Adrienne Lily Miles died fifteen years ago. Instead, she's Adrienne Lily Potter, who everyone thought died fifteen years ago. So, she now has a brother, and to top it off, she's a Perfect, and the major player in Voldemort's new plan to conquer the world and prove himself to be greater than "the boy who lived." 

McGonagall's eyes flashed. 

"That isn't exactly what I had in mind, Severus," Dumbledore said, taking another drink of his hot chocolate. 

"Well, that's my idea. Don't tell me that I didn't offer any help," Snape said, smiling evilly at McGonagall. 

"Why don't we just calmly call her to the Headmaster's office, sit her down with Sirius, Harry, and all of us, and tell her the story, starting with the mix-up at the hospital," she said. 

"Or we could ask Harry how he thinks Adrienne will best respond to the news," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. 

"Or," came a new voice that caused the three professors to whip around, "You could all sit down right here and explain to us what exactly you are talking about." 

Joe and Mia stepped out of the corner, Joe in a look of complete shock, and Mia completely calm, looking like she was again preparing herself for a duel. 

"Mr. and Mrs. Glenn, how nice to see you," Professor Dumbledore said, stepping past a white McGonagall and a glaring Snape, who was eyeing Joe as if he were a skunk. 

"Professor Dumbledore," acknowledged Mia, nodding her head to a nearby table, "Let's talk." 

*** * * * ***

"Now, let me get this straight, you never once pegged Draco with a snowball?" asked Adrienne, who was now sitting cross-legged on the hospital bed, her re-bandaged hands set in her lap. Harry shook his head regretfully. 

"I'm sorry to say, Adrienne, that never was accomplished during your absence," he replied, pursing his lips in mock sorrow. 

"Incapable fools!" Adrienne said, jumping up and standing atop of her bed, raising her hands in mock anger. 

"I leave you for two weeks, and you can't manage to torture Malfoy!" she exclaimed, now pacing her bed, "You've failed." Hermione stole a glance at Harry, who just shook his head. 

"It isn't that hard, making snowballs. All you do is grab snow, pack it in your hands, find Draco, and throw it!" she exclaimed, her eyebrows rising into her hairline. 

"We are sorry, your highness, we ask your forgiveness," Harry said sliding out of his seat and kneeling on the ground, deciding to play along with Adrienne's new little game. Hermione shook her head exasperatedly. 

"Be careful, Adrienne, you don't want to fall off and get a concussion atop everything else that's wrong with you," Hermione said reasonably, leaning back in the hard chair. 

"Treason!" Adrienne yelled, pointing a bandaged hand at Hermione. 

"Adrienne? What exactly are you doing?" asked Mia as she walked into the hospital wing, followed by Joe, Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape, and a black shaggy dog bringing up the rear, "Playing student government?" 

Adrienne looked down from her perch atop of her bed and then raised her arms in front of her, as if welcoming all into her area of the wing. 

"I was practicing for my role as future dictator. Look at the fear in my followers' eyes. Student Government . . . Ha! More like Adrienne Government!" she said, raising an eyebrow, challenging anyone for a comment. 

"A thirst for power, one of the best paths towards the Dark Arts," Snape whispered to McGonagall, "Voldemort is quite sure she'll change sides." 

McGonagall snapped her head in his direction. "One more word, Severus, and I'll be taking a lead from Moody, or whoever he was, and you'll be bouncing around your dungeon as a horned-toad until kingdom comes," she whispered. 

"Get down from there, Adrienne, before you fall," Joe said, rushing forward. Adrienne sighed. 

"You guys ruin all my fun," she whined before sitting back down. 

"I don't know, Adri, practicing to be a dictator, what ever happened to being an Auror," said Mia, pulling a chair up to sit next to Harry. Adrienne shrugged. 

"I lied; I never wanted to be an Auror," she said nonchalantly. Joe opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it, and instead pulled up a chair, strategically placing himself next to Ron, who gulped as he drew his chair closer. 

"So, it's a party, eh?" asked Adrienne, smiling vaguely as everyone piled around her bed. 

"A party isn't the appropriate word, Miss Miles," sneered Snape. 

"Sticking to appropriate words are we? Then I guess I have nothing to say to you, Professor Snape, as all the words I had in mind don't quite fit under that category," Adrienne said, smiling sweetly. Joe leaned back in his chair so he could see Mia. 

"Mia," he whispered. Mia leaned back and looked at him. "Must that idiot be here?" Joe mouthed. Mia stole a glance at Snape who was now glaring at Adrienne, who seemed to be returning the face. 

"Excuse me Professor Dumbledore, but perhaps it would be more appropriate if there were less people present?" Mia asked, standing up. Dumbledore looked at her and nodded. 

"Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, your presence is no longer needed, thank you," he said, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. 

Minerva nodded and cast a rare smile at Adrienne before making towards the door, Snape reluctantly following. Professor Dumbledore turned his gaze to Joe, who nodded towards Ron and Hermione. Dumbledore looked at them, contemplating, and then shook his head no. 

"What's going on?" Adrienne asked, watching Snape close the hospital wing door. She looked around at the faces staring at her; all of them wearing the same expression, one which she couldn't read. 

"Adrienne, there's something you need to know," Dumbledore began, but stopped upon seeing Mia lean over in her chair. 

"Adri," she interrupted. Adrienne looked at her and then broke into a huge grin. 

"We're going to open Christmas presents?" she asked hopefully, the voice in the back of her mind breaking through the barrier that she had set up while laughing with her friends. 

_'They're going to tell you it's all your fault, that you can't come back because you're a murderer. That all those people died because of you, Adrienne.'_ Adrienne blinked and forced herself to hold her smile. 

"No, we're not going to open presents now, honey," Joe said, looking down at his hands. Harry cast a glance at Hermione, who took a deep breath. 

"I don't know exactly how to ask you, or tell you this," Mia interrupted. Adrienne jumped up. 

"I'm not telling you what happened! It isn't my fault! I swear, it was a mistake, they came for the wrong person!" she exclaimed, her mind succumbing to the voice that had began beating through her head. Mia sat up straight, her eyes wide. 

"No, Adrienne, stop, hold on there. I don't have a question about that, I promise," Mia said, holding up a hand, "Sit back down." Adrienne smiled embarrassedly and pushed the pulsating voice back into the corner of her mind. She slowly sat back down atop her sheets. 

"Adrienne, what exactly do you know about your past?" Mia asked slowly, her dark eyes boring into Adrienne's. Adrienne smiled a slight, confused smile. 

"I'm an orphan, what is there to know," she said, reaching up and pulling her hair into tight bun at the top of her head, tying it with a hair tie Hermione had brought her. 

"What do you know about your parents?" Mia said, rephrasing her question. Adrienne's face tightened. 

"My dad left my mom, my mom died, and my gran hated me so much that she took me to an orphanage... on the far end of the Atlantic Ocean... on a completely different continent," Adrienne said, a bitter tone in her voice, "There's nothing else to know." Mia bit her lip and cast a glance at Joe, who raised his eyebrows. 

"Um, well, not exactly," Mia stuttered, making a stressed face. Adrienne raised an eyebrow and laughed amusedly. 

"Wait, let me guess, this is going to end up like one of those cheesy Muggle soap operas, right?" Adrienne began, "You're going to tell me that my mother never died, that this entire time she's been following my entire life story with great interest and regret, and now, after fifteen years she's willing to admit that she made a mistake and welcome me back with open arms?" 

"Adrienne," Mia started, but Adrienne had again stood up and raised a hand. 

"And I'm supposed to be overcome with joy and happiness and run into her arms and tell her I've missed her so much?" she asked, a hand on her face. Mia pursed her lips and glanced at Joe, who had an amazed smile plastered on his face. 

"Well, Professor, I'm not your typical soap opera character, see I'll . . ." 

"Adrienne, please stop standing up on the bed, either do that upon your own free will, or we'll tie you down," Joe said, standing up and looking at her in the same way he had when she had told him that Ron was taking her to the formal. 

"Ai Ai, Captain, must you get violent about things?" Adrienne said, sitting back down. 

"Seems she's back to her normal self," Hermione whispered to Harry. Harry nodded. "Except for those occurrences where she breaks out in defense about the attack," he added 

"Adrienne, do you know where you were born?" Professor Dumbledore asked as Joe again sat down. Adrienne turned to look at him. 

"In a hospital, I suppose," she replied, a hint of impatience in her voice. 

"In Mercy Hospital to be exact, on July 31, 1981," he continued. Adrienne raised her eyebrows and smiled impatiently. 

"What a development! We've established that the day I was born does indeed happen to be my birthday; wonderful, is that what you all wanted to tell me?" she asked, a smirk slowly engulfing her face. 

"Adrienne, shh," Mia hissed at her, "Listen, please." Adrienne turned her attention to Harry and Hermione, who just looked at her with a sad face. Adrienne's smirk fell and she turned to look at Ron, who inched away from Joe and smiled a reassuring smile. Adrienne swallowed. 

"What's going on?" she asked. 

"That's what we're trying to tell you, except you seem to want to add a running commentary," Joe said, throwing up his hands in impatience. 

"Well get on with it then!" she exclaimed, reaching behind her for a pillow to hug, something she always did when she felt uncomfortable. 

"It seems, Adrienne, as odd as this sounds, that two Adrienne Lilys were born that day, in the same wing, in the same hospital," Dumbledore continued, "One of them was born to a Heather Miles . . ." 

"My mother," Adrienne interrupted. 

"And the other, she was born to a Lily and James Potter," Dumbledore continued. Adrienne didn't say anything here. She just sat there for a second, trying to understand what he had just said; finally, she smiled. 

"Hear that Potter, they thought you were a girl," she said laughing and turning to look at Harry, who just dropped his head into his hand in disbelief. 

"No, Harry was never for one second called Adrienne; that was his twin sister's name," Dumbledore said. Adrienne stopped laughing abruptly and turned around to look at the Headmaster, who was staring intently at her through his half-moon glasses. 

"There was an Adrienne Lily Miles and an Adrienne Lily Potter born that day. Several hours after their birth, in the nursery, Adrienne Potter was thought to have died of a pulmonary embolism," Dumbledore said calmly, watching Adrienne as she slowly turned away. 

"I'm so sorry, Harry, how terrible," she said, looking at Harry, who still had his head in a hand. 

"Adrienne, I'm not done yet," Dumbledore said, cutting through the silence that had just fallen through the room. Adrienne turned. 

"Adrienne Potter never died," was all he said. Then he stood up and walked to the opposite end of the wing, leaving Adrienne sitting, confused, atop her bed. 

"What do you mean she never died?" she asked slowly, her mind starting to reel, the voice in the back of her mind starting to resurface again. Harry looked up at her. 

"The babies were switched, Adrienne," he replied. Adrienne let her green eyes turn to Mia and Joe, who just looked at her and nodded. 

_'Dou know what this means, Adrienne?' _came the tortuous voice. Adrienne clenched her fists. 

_'You know why he came then?' _

"Shut up," Adrienne whispered. The people grouped around her bed looked at her in interest. 

_'You're a Perfect. He wants you, because he wants to kill Harry,' _came the voice. Adrienne shut her eyes._ 'He wants you to help him. He wants to use you against Harry.' _

"I won't," Adrienne whispered. 

"You won't what, Adrienne?" Dumbledore had walked back over to her bedside, and was carrying something. Adrienne opened her eyes. 

"Nothing, Professor," she muttered. 

'They've made a mistake, that's all. Don't listen to them, they can't be sure,' she told herself, fighting back the voice until it only existed as a dull echoing murmur in the back of her mind. 

"Adrienne, look," Dumbledore said, handing her a mirror and motioning Harry to come forward. Harry slowly stood up, walked the few feet to her bed, and then sat down next to her. 

"You guys look exactly alike," Mia said slowly as Adrienne raised the mirror in front of her and Harry. Adrienne didn't move for a moment. She stared into the mirror. 

Two faces stared back at her. Two sets of green eyes, to sets of black hair, one set longer than the other. There were two sets of identical lips and cheekbones. Adrienne didn't say anything, she didn't blink, she didn't breath. Her eyes settled on Harry's scar, which was also reflecting back at her. 

"Your name isn't Adrienne Miles," Dumbledore said into the quiet room. 

"It's Adrienne Potter," Joe finished, looking at her intently. Adrienne slowly lowered the mirror and stared around the room, her eyes falling onto every person. 

_'The only reason he'd want a Perfect is to become more powerful.' _The little voice was back, and Adrienne tightened her grip on the mirror. 

_'He wants it to finish off Harry. He wants you to help him. You're a murderer.' _Adrienne held her breath. 

"Adrienne, are you all right?" Mia's voice interrupted the one in her mind, but Adrienne didn't respond. 

'_Look in the mirror. When Harry looks in there, a hero stares back out: The face of the person who delivered the wizarding world from Voldemort. Look in the mirror, Adrienne. When you look in, what do you see? The person who Voldemort wants to use to conquer the world, to kill Harry; the person who is responsible for the massacre on Christmas night.' _

Adrienne slowly raised the mirror to eye level and looked at it, staring at her reflection with disgust. Then she slowly stood up, holding the mirror in a trembling hand. Adrienne took a deep breath and then forced herself to smile, desperately trying to push back the voice, desperately trying to push back her tears, desperately trying to push back her fear that she was the one at fault. 

"Adrienne Potter, eh?" she asked quietly, struggling to keep a forced smile, and turned to look at Harry, "I guess I can get used to that one." 


	24. A Queen Dethroned

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 24: A Queen Dethroned**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Adrienne sat alone in her empty dormitory. She had told everyone that she had a headache, and then made her way up the spiral staircase, away from the last silent night that would grace the Gryffindor common room for a long time. The last week of the holidays had flown past in a whirlwind of motion that had left her feeling as if she had no firm ground on which to place her feet, no firm ground on which to steady herself. Adrienne stood up from her bed, pulled her school robes tightly around her, and turned her attention to the dark sky lingering outside her window. 

Professors Glenn and Hartel at left earlier that day, left to return to Salem, to help prepare for the upcoming reopening of the school, which Adrienne knew would be quite an emotional event. A lone tear began to make its way down her cheek and she quickly brushed it away. She reached up and felt the small pearl earrings that now adorned her ears, the Christmas present she had received from Hermione. 

Several days ago Professors Glenn and Hartel had retrieved her possessions from Salem, and she Joe, Mia, Ron, Hermione, and Harry had a makeshift Christmas in the Gryffindor common room. Adrienne chuckled as she remembered how she had entertained them doing impersonations of Christmas trees, which in and of itself would never have been funny had she not been borrowing Harry's wand and had she not somehow lost all the concentration she had gained during those few weeks before the holiday. It was her turning into a blue Christmas tree star that had forced Professor Glenn to put a stop to her nonsense. 

Adrienne walked swiftly to her trunk, now lying at its usual place at the foot of her four-poster. She knelt down and opened it, slowly rummaging through the piles of holiday homework and the other possessions she had brought with her back to America. After several moments she found what she was rummaging for: a thin and long rectangular box, which she had placed inside one of her sweaters, not trusting herself to put it in her bedside cabinet and then somehow lose it. 

Adrienne slowly stood up and shut her trunk with a quick swing of her foot. Her fingers cautiously caressed the outside of the box before undoing the hastily retied ribbon and opening it. Inside was a beautiful 12-inch Mahogany wand, resting imperiously atop the cotton padding. Adrienne lifted it out and tossed the box atop her bed. 

"Veela hair?" she muttered before raising the wand. Mr. Ollivander had brought his traveling wand shop to Hogwarts two days ago, mostly because neither Professor Dumbledore nor Madam Pomfrey wanted Adrienne travelling to Diagon Alley, although the two had very different reasons for their hesitancy. Mr. Ollivander, under the strictest of confidences of course, had been informed of Adrienne's magical condition, and from the very back of his store he had selected the very oldest of wand boxes. They were thousands of years old, the boxes barely preserved by their charms, and were the last remaining wands that had been made for Perfects training themselves under the newer magic. The wands' ingredients were no longer used anymore, and were, in most cases, highly dangerous combinations.

The day she was finally released from the hospital ward she had been ushered into a small classroom. 

"Ah, Miss Potter," came the soft voice of Mr. Ollivander, stepping out of the shadows cast by the drawn curtains and the sunlight that had managed to penetrate the thick drapes. Adrienne jumped and didn't respond. 

"He means you, Adri," Mia whispered to her, nudging her forward. 

"Oh, right," Adrienne muttered, smiling awkwardly at the odd looking man and stepping forward into the center of the room. 

"I had been expecting you for quite some time, pity you didn't come until now," he said breathlessly, walking around her and pulling out a measuring tape. 

"Pity," Adrienne muttered, while inwardly thinking that she was lucky to never have seen this creepy man until now, because as an eleven-year-old she might have fainted in fright. 

"What type of wand did you have before, child?" 

Adrienne raised an eyebrow in thought. "10-inch oak with unicorn tail hair," she responded, looking distractedly as the measuring tape began to measure the width of her knuckles. 

"That is quite a weak wand, and you managed to duel with it?" he asked, stopping in his tracks, several boxes balanced on his outstretched pale arms. 

"It dueled fine but transfigured worth crap," she replied shortly. Joe laughed quietly, earning a severe glance from his wife. 

"I don't want her talking like that; she learned that from you; happy now? You've corrupted her," Mia hissed. Joe rolled his eyes. 

"Surely you have me mistaken for someone else. Me, corrupt her? Dear, it must have been the other way around." 

"We must have silence, please," said Mr. Ollivander in a cool, echoing voice. 

"Look what you did now! Now we're being chastised for talking!" Mia exclaimed. 

"Professor Hartel, you're embarrassing me," Adrienne said, although she was more embarrassed at the tape now measuring her chest. 

"Hear that, Mia, you're embarrassing the poor girl." 

"You too, Professor Glenn." 

Joe shot an innocent glance at Adrienne, who just rolled her eyes. Mr. Ollivander set several wand boxes atop a nearby desk and then snatched the measuring tape from the air. 

"I see you'll be a tough customer," he said quietly, so only Adrienne would hear him. Adrienne smiled sarcastically. 

"Your little measuring tape can tell you that?" she responded. Mr. Ollivander stood up from where he was bent over the desk. He slowly walked toward her, positioning himself so that no one behind him could see what he was doing. 

"My little measuring tape has other uses," he said, gently grabbing her right hand and turning it so her palm faced up. Adrienne tried to close her fingers and make a fist; she tried desperately to hide the triangle, but Mr. Ollivander proved to be much stronger than he looked. 

"This, Miss Potter, tells me you'll be a tough customer," he whispered and then hastily turned back to his pile. Adrienne slowly lowered her hand and noticed Mia and Joe looking at her with questioning faces. 

"He told me I have a long life line, seems I won't be dying anytime soon. You two can sleep soundly now," she said, turning and smiling at them. 

"Here, this one might work, odd combination: Rosewood and frog spawn," he said, thrusting a red wand into her hand. 

"Frog spawn!" Adrienne exclaimed, holding the wand out ahead of her in disgust. 

"It isn't going to hatch on you, child," Mr. Ollivander said, annoyed. Adrienne wrinkled her nose and raised her wand above her head. 

"No good," he grabbed the wand from her hand and handed her a new one, "Driftwood and the hair of a hinkypunk." 

"Oh great, a hinkypunk," Adrienne mumbled. 

"Not satisfactory, not at all." 

Adrienne handed him the driftwood wand and took another one. As soon as she grasped it, it started to glow slightly, and as she lifted into the air, it burst into a bright light, filling the room with a blinding void of whiteness. 

"Perfect," Mr. Ollivander replied, taking it from her. Immediately the room returned to a normal lighting scheme. 

"What do you mean _perfect_?" Adrienne drawled dangerously. Mr. Ollivander didn't even blink. 

"This wand will be perfect, for now. You'll have to be careful, don't let that mark touch it, or it's going to illuminate again," he whispered. Adrienne sneered and watched him as he wrapped up the wand. 

"Great, I got a wand that wants to become a flashlight," she muttered. All of a sudden the feeling of warm breath on the side of her head caused her to jump. 

"Remember, Miss Potter, only one of you has a need for a wand; there will come a time when even your wand won't help you, do not become dependant on it." *** * * * ***

"Oh, Adrienne!" Adrienne looked up from her oatmeal. Several girls from her Double Charms class with the Ravenclaws were rushing over to her. 

"We heard what happened at that school!" a short and slightly round brunette exclaimed. 

"Oh, how ever did you manage to escape?" squealed a well-groomed black haired girl. 

"If that were to be me in such a situation I might faint from fright. Never in my life could I imagine myself having to escape my home like that," said the last girl, a pretty girl with well-defined Asian features. Adrienne raised an eyebrow in amazement. 

"Yes . . well . . . um . . .exactly," she stuttered, somewhat confused at the sudden onslaught of attention. 

"She doesn't want to talk about it," Harry said abruptly, putting down his glass of orange juice. 

"No, not at all," added Ron. The Asian girl looked from Adrienne to the two boys and smiled sweetly. 

"Oh, pardon me, I understand and apologize for imposing," she said, and then turned, the other two Ravenclaws following behind her. Adrienne raised her eyebrows and turned to look at Hermione. 

"Who were they?" she asked slowly. Hermione snorted into her oatmeal. 

"I'm not sure, but they sure speak as if they're royalty. I wonder how many hours they spend on grooming themselves and their speech, I'm sure it's much more than they spend on school," Hermione said distastefully. Adrienne made a passive face and shrugged before taking notice of a new ring Hermione was wearing. 

"My dear, Hermi," she said in a high voice, sticking her nose into the air, "What a fantastic adornment you have there. You must tell me where you acquired such a fine ring." 

Hermione laughed. "The Hermi addition ruined the effect, Adrienne," she said, reaching into her bag and pulling out her Transfiguration book. 

"Fine then. If you prefer to live your life thinking you are above me, far be it for me to interrupt you," Adrienne added haughtily. 

"You seem to have acquired a taste for sarcasm during your holiday," Hermione said, turning to the chapter they would be beginning to study. Adrienne's smile wavered. 

"Yes, well," she started and then turned back to her oatmeal, hastily shoveling spoonfuls into her mouth. Harry leaned closer to Hermione so he could whisper in her ear. 

"I still think something's bothering her," he said quietly. Hermione nodded. 

"You think you can find out?" Harry asked. Hermione turned and looked at him. 

"Definitely." 

*** * * * ***

Professor McGonagall looked up from her attendance sheet and quickly scanned her classroom, searching to see if there were any students missing: There weren't. She quickly set down the paper and picked up her wand, turning her attention back to her restless class. It seemed many had not recovered from the holiday. Draco Malfoy was barely keeping his eyes open, his head occasionally lulling forward. Parvati and Lavender were, as usual, consulting Tarot cards, no doubt trying to guess what the customary beginning of term quiz would be on. McGonagall rolled her eyes and then let them wander through the rest of the Gryffindors. Hermione Granger was sitting rapt with attention, her hands folded on the table in front of her. Next to her, Harry and Ron were nudging each other and snickering about something while casting mischievous looks at Draco. Adrienne sat next to Ron, and was currently staring at her wand, an eyebrow raised, her face contorted in a skeptical expression.

"Good morning," Professor McGonagall said, reaching down behind her desk and picking up a large box. Several replies of "good morning" drifted lazily back to her.

"Today will be no different than any other beginning of the term. I know that you have just returned from your holiday, so the best way to jog your memories will be to make them work." McGonagall flicked her wand in front of her and in an instant, a glass of water stood before every student. Harry stared at his. 

"Well, this is new," he muttered, wondering exactly what they were supposed to do with it; his memory of the previous term quickly locking itself into a far and inaccessible corner of his mind. 

"Specific Transfiguration Spells," McGonagall said, "I want you to transfigure the water into pumpkin juice. Do nothing to the glass. When you are done, bring your glass up to me. You may begin." 

Adrienne looked down at her glass skeptically. 

"Right," she muttered. Adrienne fingered her wand, which still felt quite foreign to her, before raising it in front of her and shutting her eyes. 

'Just picture it,' she told herself as an image of a water-filled glass began to form before her closed eyes. Adrienne gripped her wand tighter with her fingers, remembering to not let it touch the palm of her hand. 

'_Do you think they can tell?'_ The voice was back. Adrienne tried to focus on the image of the glass, which was now beginning to fade into oblivion. 

_'You know they can. What would happen if people found out what you were? What would they think if they knew that the fiasco on Christmas was because of you? What would Harry, Ron, and Hermione think?' _

Adrienne took a deep breath and tightened her grip on her wand even more. 

_'How would everyone react if they found out you're a murderer? You'll find out once they know what you are. Your magic will give you away.' _

"Miss . . . Miss. . . Adrienne," Professor McGonagall's voice drifted into her mind and Adrienne snapped her eyes open. Professor McGonagall was looking at her from behind a large pile of pumpkin-juice filled glasses. 

"Adrienne." McGonagall chose to ignore the odd glances she received for calling one of her students by her first name. The fact remained that she had never asked Adrienne what she wanted to be called, and McGonagall didn't feel comfortable calling her Potter if she hadn't told any of her classmates who she really was. And McGonagall didn't feel comfortable calling her Miles, because she didn't know if that was what Adrienne would want to be called either. 

"Everyone has finished, so, please move along," McGonagall said. 

Adrienne smiled weakly and slowly looked around the classroom. Every single student was looking at her. Adrienne's eyes widened and she turned her attention back to her glass. 

'You can do it,' she told herself. 

_'They're all watching, waiting, to learn the truth.' _ "_Adrienne!_" Professor McGonagall screamed as a huge jet of water burst from the glass. 

Adrienne snapped her eyes open. Sitting on the table was indeed her glass; however, she had not managed to transfigure her water into pumpkin juice, but instead it seemed, she had transfigured her glass into a jet of water, which didn't show any sign of stopping. 

*** * * * * **

"Well, you have to admit, that was an interesting first class of the term," Hermione said quietly as the four made their way to the Potions dungeon. 

"Oh shut up," Adrienne said, glaring at Hermione and quickening her pace. 

"Adrienne, that could have happened to anyone," Hermione called after her. Adrienne turned around. 

"Right! Would you flood an entire classroom? Would Ron flood an entire classroom? Would Harry flood an entire classroom?" Adrienne asked dangerously. Ron raised an eyebrow. 

"I would if the circumstances were right," he said, smiling hopefully. Adrienne glared even more. 

"No, I'm the only idiot who could possibly flood an entire classroom." 

"You didn't technically flood the entire classroom; there was still enough room for us to breathe while Professor McGonagall tried to fix it," Harry added. This didn't cheer Adrienne up in the least. 

"I wonder why McGonagall couldn't fix it right away?" Hermione mused as she pushed her way into the empty dungeon. 

"Perhaps she's getting slow in her old age," Adrienne mumbled. 

"If you don't mind me asking," Hermione began. 

"I do," interrupted Adrienne, but Hermione wasn't one to be discouraged, so she continued. 

"You were doing so good before the holiday, what happened?" she asked. Adrienne yanked out her chair and angrily sat down. 

"It must be my new wand, that's all. Nothing happened," she said, pulling out her Potions' text. 

"You went from acing your exams to flooding a classroom!" Hermione said exasperatedly. 

"That's what you get when you don't have any talent," came a drawling voice behind them. Draco and the rest of the Slytherins had entered. 

"I really didn't need another washing today, Miles," he said with a sneer, "However, you could do with giving that Mudblood another wash, perhaps a couple thousand. No, she still wouldn't be clean enough to deserve to attend this school." 

"Watch it, Malfoy," Harry said, reaching for his wand. Hermione put a hand on his shoulder. 

"I prefer to keep my teeth the way they are, Harry, let him be," she whispered. 

"Hear that, Potter, your girlfriend's afraid you can't take me," Draco said, his gray eyes gleaming malevolently in the dimness of the dungeon. 

"No, she's just worried about you; she doesn't like to see anyone get hurt. See, that's the difference between you and her: She has character," Harry said slowly and then turned to take his seat at their normal table. Draco opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment the rest of the Gryffindors and Professor Snape entered. Snape strode through the class, a scroll in his hand, and stopped at the front. 

"Attendance," he said softly, flicking open the scroll. He began to call role, bellowing the Slytherins' surnames and whispering the Gryffindors'. 

"Longbottom," her hissed softy. Neville didn't look up. He was immersed in his text, trying desperately to get ahead in the potion they would be making that day. 

"LONGBOTTOM! Are you deaf!" Snape roared. Neville jumped and looked up. 

"No, no," Neville stammered, paling as Professor Snape walked towards him. 

"Ten points from Gryffindor. No wonder you're such a failure, you don't even pay attention!" Neville gulped and sank lower in his chair. Professor Snape laughed inwardly at Neville's terrified face. He turned his attention back to the list. 

"MALFOY!" he bellowed. 

"Here, Professor," Draco replied smugly. 

"That's how you answer a roll call, Longbottom. Twenty points to Slytherin for paying attention." Snape turned back to the scroll and read the next name: Miles, Adrienne. He looked up and found the girl, sitting in the back row, glaring at him. 

"Well, what exactly should I call you?" he asked slowly. Adrienne raised an eyebrow. 

"I don't have a telephone, thus you can't call me. Plus, a teacher calling a student, I don't think that is very professional," she said hotly. Snape scowled. 

"I did not ask you when should I call you. I asked you what should I call you," he said in a soft and dangerous tone. 

"Adrienne," Harry whispered, "don't push it." Adrienne raised her other eyebrow. 

"I suppose you can call me Adrienne," she replied nonchalantly. 

"How about, Miles? Or would you prefer something else?" he asked, a smirk playing on the corners of his lips. 

"Miles is fine," Adrienne said smoothly, without emotion. 

"I would have thought you wouldn't use that name anymore," Snape began, but Adrienne interrupted him. 

"There you go again, thinking. That really isn't your forte, Professor . . ." 

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for disrespect, Miles," Snape shot. 

"Moron," Adrienne whispered. 

Snape continued to take roll call; however, now that the rest of the Gryffindors knew he was trying to get them for not paying attention, they all sat rapt, listening with all their might to hear him whisper their name. 

"Today we will begin aging potions," Snape said, once he had written the potions ingredients onto the board. 

"Who can tell me the main ingredient?" he asked. Hermione's hand flew into the air like a rocket. Everyone else just sat there. 

"Anyone?" he asked again, ignoring Hermione as usual. 

"How about you, Potter?" he asked. Harry sighed. 

"The main ingredient is crushed antelope skulls," he said. 

"Ugh," moaned Adrienne in disgust. 

"Now, first bring your liquid ingredients to a boil. Forget that and you'll end up stuck as an aged version of yourself," Snape said blandly, "Begin." 

*** * * * ***

"The next tournament is this Friday, against Ravenclaw," Professor McGonagall began. The Gryffindor Dueling Team looked at her in shock. 

"That's a week away," Samantha said quietly. 

"Indeed, less than a week," McGonagall replied. 

"Quite soon," Rodney said. 

"It's against Ravenclaw, who, you remember beat Hufflepuff in a landslide, 6 to 1 right before the end of last term?" McGonagall continued. 

"Don't worry, Professor, we got 'em covered," Adrienne said from where she was sitting, slouched in a chair behind Harry. McGonagall raised an eyebrow. 

"Well, you all still need to practice, whether you feel you have them _covered_ or not." 

Adrienne sat with a bored expression as she watched her teammates practice in the dueling ring. She nodded her head, impressed, as Hermione defeated Ron with an amazing sequence of attacks, which Adrienne knew that even she would have trouble warding off. 

"Adrienne and Samantha," McGonagall called. Adrienne stood up, turned her neck to the side and stretched before entering the ring. 

"This is really getting boring," she grumbled as she faced Samantha. Poor Samantha didn't even get to open her mouth before Adrienne had disarmed her. Samantha stood there for several seconds, a shocked look on her face, before reaching for Adrienne's hand. 

"It seems that you're new wand has not inhibited you in the least," Professor McGonagall said, while making some notes on a clipboard. Adrienne shrugged and walked back to her seat behind Harry and Hermione. 

"If only I could be as quick as you," Hermione said wistfully, turning to look at her. Adrienne smiled. 

"I must just have a quick mouth," she said. Harry turned around at this, an odd expression on his face. 

"A very quick mouth. It almost looked as if your spell issued before you had finished saying it," he said calmly, not at all implying something, just making an observation. Adrienne, however, didn't know that. Her face froze in a look of half horror before she regained her composure. She smiled forcedly. 

"Right, Potter, like that is even possible. Look, McGonagall is waiting for you to go duel," Adrienne said. Harry turned and stood up. 

_'They can tell by your magic. You'll have to be more careful,' _said the little voice. Adrienne took a deep breath. 

"Oh sod off," she whispered. 

*** * * * ***

"Welcome," the cold voice echoed through the chamber, the echoes strangely timed with the flickers of the torchlight. Severus Snape rolled his eyes behind his mask, telling himself that there were plenty of more enjoyable things he could be doing right now, such as trying to catch Potter wandering the school. Voldemort paced before his Death Eaters, glaring at every one of them. 

"Another plan failed, thwarted once again by that boy!" he exclaimed. No one said anything and Voldemort didn't expect them too. He stopped before his chair and clenched his fists. 

"But, I must admit, our plan was not foolproof, we did not account for the girl's abilities," he said grimly, "That mistake will not be made again." Snape couldn't resist himself. 

"So, exactly how are we going to account for her abilities the next time?" he asked somewhat coldly. Voldemort's eyes flashed, but if Snape's comment angered him, he didn't say anything. 

"She's quite weak," Voldemort said, sitting down upon his chair and glaring out over the large crowd of wizards lined up before him. "She is weak mentally. She can be manipulated. Everyone has a weakness, and I think I've found hers," Voldemort said with a dangerously calm voice. Snape didn't say anything, he just swallowed nervously: He hated it when Voldemort talked in a code, not really saying what he meant. Snape had learned this was never a good sign. 

"But that is not the reason I've called you here," Voldemort said, standing up, "Wormtail." 

From a dark corner of the chamber, Peter Pettigrew slowly walked out, carrying a large silver box. A murmur filled the room. 

"Silence!" Voldemort spat, reaching out his hands to take the box from Peter. 

"Here, master," Peter whispered, and then turned and walked to an empty space in the line of Death Eaters. 

"We have a new recruit," was all Voldemort had to say and the multitudes of Death Eaters began murmuring again, turning in their spots, trying to discern in the darkness, through the masks of their colleagues, who indeed was new. 

"This one will be quite the addition," Voldemort continued as he set the box onto the table by his chair, slightly moving the small container which held the Golden Serpent. He looked at the silver box, at how the light reflected off it ominously, how it almost illuminated in the reflection. 

"W, it is time," he whispered into the now deadly silent room. Snape took a deep breath, remembering his own initiation ceremony. 

From the shadows existing next to the chamber's entrance stepped a tall figure, who much to Snape's surprise moved gracefully across the floor, much different than the usual choppy and arrogant movements expressed by the majority in the room. The figure stopped several feet from Voldemort's throne-like chair and stood waiting. Voldemort rested his elbows onto the chair's arms and brought his fingertips together in front of him, staring at the figure before him. 

"This is quite the commitment, my young recruit," he said softly. Snape waited with bated breath to hear the reply, but when the figure spoke, he almost choked. 

"I'm aware of that, my lord," said a very distinctly feminine voice. Murmurs again broke through the line: Very few women were ever allowed to join the ranks and this new recruit definitely was a surprise. 

"You have passed all of the trials with exemplary marks, W, but that is not the end to your trial," Voldemort said. 

"Of course not, my lord. I understand you must feel that I have completely pledged my allegiance. I am prepared to complete any other task you ask of me," W continued. 

Snape smirked: If it was one thing Voldemort hated, it was suck-ups, and from the looks of it, W was just that. However, Voldemort didn't respond in his usual fashion of yelling "Crucio." Instead he looked at the cloaked figure and smirked, his red eyes glinting more than ever. 

"Your final task, W, consists of pledging your loyalty to me, and me alone. Do you understand that part?" he asked. W nodded. 

"You understand what I mean by that. True loyalty to me; let your loyalty wander to another, and the consequence is death." 

"Loyalty to you and you alone," W whispered into the silent room. 

"As a loyal servant of mine, you'll be marked, to show the world to whom you truly pledge allegiance." Voldemort reached for the silver box and slowly opened it. From within its depths he withdrew a bronze sheet, on which was etched a symbol: The Dark Mark. 

"Step forward, my servant." W took several steps forward until she was only a foot away from him. 

"Roll up the sleeve of your left arm," he hissed, looking at her in what Snape deemed to be a contemplating sneer. 

All the Death Eaters waited for the applique to be applied to the woman's arm, but instead of the earth shattering scream that would have been accompanied by his placing the sheet onto her forearm, a frantic yelp released from under her mask. Voldemort had with immaculate precision, tossed the plate back into its box, and grabbed her by the throat. 

With one quick motion he twisted her around and from within his cloak drew a dagger. With one arm across her chest, gripping the upper part of her right arm, he pressed the dagger to her throat. W's hands reached up to grab his arm, trying to pull the dagger away, and in the flickering torchlight, Snape's horrified eyes could see her long bright orange nails digging into his pale arm. 

"Do not lie to me, W," Voldemort hissed, tightening his grip and pushing the dagger through the material covering her neck. W whimpered. 

"I expect complete loyalty. You don't have any harbored loyalty to that _man_, do you?" Voldemort yelled into her ear. 

W pushed her body back into him, trying to put as much distance between herself and the blade, feeling the trickle of blood starting to saturate her robes as the dagger pressed deeper into her neck. 

"No, no my lord, only to you. I have no justification to follow him, I want only you as my master," she said, trying to sound as sure as possible. Voldemort pressed the dagger to her neck harder. 

"Only you, I swear on my life," she whispered. 

As quickly as he had grabbed her, he let go of her, pushing her away from him, away into the darkness where the other Death Eaters were watching. 

"Your final test and you still professed loyalty; come here, W, and finish your pledge," he said coolly. 

W straightened and then turned. Voldemort reached for the copper plate and again withdrew it from its box. W quickly rolled up her left sleeve and extended her forearm. 

"Complete loyalty, or you'll be dead," Voldemort said, staring into W's masked face. 

"I swear, on my life," W repeated. Snape shook his head, 'you fool.' 

*** * * * ***

Unfortunately for Adrienne, the rest of the first week of term did not get any better. Not only did she charm Professor Flitwick to sing opera for an hour, but she managed to lock herself in the trophy room while trying to hide from Snape, whom she had accidentally lit on fire while stoking her potion's flame. Not to mention that Quidditch practice had been a royal mess. 

Adrienne and Harry made their way to the pitch early on Thursday afternoon, carrying their brooms over their right shoulders and talking. 

"You know what, Adrienne?" Harry asked as they stepped onto the pitch. Adrienne turned and looked at him. 

"What?" she said, reaching back and pulling her hair into a pony tail, so when she was flying the wind wouldn't blind her with her loose hair. 

"When you duel, something odd happens, it's like your wand anticipates you," Harry said. Adrienne dropped her arms midway through tying the ponytail into place. She stared at her brother for several seconds, at a loss for words. 

"Like I said, Harry, it just must be my new wand. It's got a veela hair, perhaps that is something wands with veela hair do," she said hastily. 

_'They're going to catch on. Him first. He'll be the first one to know. Then where will you be?' _said the little voice that had taken up a permanent residence in her mind. Adrienne shook her head. 

Harry read her horrified face with confusion and was contemplating pressing more on the issue, but decided he'd add that to the list of things Hermione was supposed to press out of her. Adrienne looked around, noticing their other teammates advancing on the pitch. 

"Looks like practice is going to start," she said, awkwardly changing the subject. 

"Looks like it," Harry said, nodding his head, not thinking of anything else to say, unhappily allowing the insueing awkward silence to press in upon them until Alicia broke it with her instructions. 

For the first several minutes, they listened to Alicia discuss tactics on scoring more, which weren't taken very seriously, mainly because of Fred and George. 

Adrienne flew absentmindedly, not at all trying to get the quaffle. Instead, her mind was again battling with the little voice. 

_'Harry notices, he does, and he'll find out the truth.' _ 'It doesn't matter,' Adrienne told herself, 'No one else will notice.' 

_'Right, you'll be dueling in front of the whole school. They're bound to notice something, murderer.' _

'I'm not a murderer,' Adrienne thought. 

"Adrienne, watch out!" 

In a second Adrienne flew right into George, catching his right shoulder with her broomstick. 

"Umpf." George doubled over in pain, holding his shoulder and mumbling about blind chasers. 

"Oh, sorry," Adrienne called behind her, gripping her broom tightly and instantaneously returning to her mental debate, again blocking out the outside world. 

_'People are just starting to accept you. Well, not Lavender, or Parvati, or Malfoy . . .' _

'You didn't have to mention that, did you?' she asked herself. 

_'But think of Harry. Think of him, to find out that his sister is a murderer, that people died because of her.' _Adrienne glared. 

'Now, wait a second, his parents, or I guess, our parents, died because of him. So what's your point,' she shot. Nothing answered her and she smiled. 

"One point, Adrienne, zero points, insanity," she whispered. Adrienne turned and flew in the opposite direction, having yet to catch one quaffle; this didn't bother her though as she had completely forgotten she was even at quidditch practice. 

_'Think about this though.' _

"Don't you ever go away!" Adrienne shouted. Fred and George stopped in midair as they flew past her. George turned to his brother and made a face. 

"Now, what exactly did we do to make her so angry?" George asked, turning to watch her continue to fly in a straight line towards the faraway goal posts. Fred raised an eyebrow. 

"Not sure. But I'll give you one guess," Fred said with a hint of academia. George grinned. 

"What are you two doing?" Alicia had now joined the two. 

"Discussing Adrienne's moodswings," Fred said innocently. Alicia glared at him and then let her gaze follow the girl who was now barely flying at all and was, it seemed, hovering in mind air and gesticulating with her hands. 

"What _is_ she doing?" Alicia asked rudely. 

"Yelling at an invisible person?" Fred answered. 

"Practicing her lines for an upcoming play?" George suggested. 

"Perhaps deciding that she wants to break up with Ron and is trying to think of all the ways he disgusts her," Fred continued. George looked at him. 

"No, ten galleons it's an invisible person," George lamented. 

"You git! An invisible person?" exclaimed Alicia, the lack of practicing that had been going on finally getting to her. 

"My dear 'licia, haven't you ever heard of flying invisible people? They tend to only show themselves to star American chasers," said Fred in the most serious tone he could muster. 

"Back to practice, NOW!" Alicia screamed at them and watched in satisfaction as they both flew away, their bats raised to attack the bludgers again. Alicia didn't move for a second and just hovered there, watching Adrienne. 

_'Think of this though.' _

"Leave me alone," Adrienne hissed, pursing her lips. 

_'If they find out you're a Perfect and they know that Voldemort came to Salem for you, then they'll figure out that he wants your powers. And why? To kill Harry. That'll make you an accomplice in your own brother's death!' _

That was it. Before her mind could begin tormenting her again, Adrienne entered a steep dive, with intentions of landing and beating her broom into the ground until there was nothing left but splinters, hoping that would relieve her anger. Unfortunately, Adrienne still hadn't opened her eyes to what was going on around her and dove right towards Alicia and Katie. 

Harry looked down from his search for the snitch just in time to see Adrienne careen into the other two players at top speed. With a sickening crack, all three fell the final ten feet to the ground. 

"What happened!" 

"Did you loose control of your broom?" 

"Adrienne, you all right?" 

Adrienne sat up slowly and shifted herself so she was no longer lying on Katie's back. Above her Harry's face swam into view. Adrienne looked at him and smiled a pleading smile. 

"I didn't kill anyone," she whispered before falling over unconscious. 

"That's women for you," Fred muttered. 

*** * * * ***

"She seems to be having an interesting week." 

Fred and George were sitting in the corner of the Gryffindor common room, watching Adrienne, Ron, Harry, and Hermione, who were sitting at their normal table, Adrienne holding an icepack to her head. 

Madam Pomfrey had not been pleased to see her, Katie, and Alicia enter the Hospital Wing on stretchers, which Harry had conjured. And she spent the entire hour that the three were in there lecturing them on the dangerousness of flying sports. 

"How exactly did you manage that, Adrienne?" Hermione asked, looking up from her Transfiguration homework, "I mean, this is the second time you've lost control of your broom." 

"Excuse me! The first time Dragon boy pushed me!" Adrienne snapped, "It was an accident, come off it already!" 

"Yup, I guess you could say her week bit socks," Fred agreed and then smiled mischievously, "You know, we could cheer her up tomorrow." George turned and looked at him, picking up the lunatic glint in his eye. 

"Let me in on this plan of yours," he urged. 

"There's a dueling competition tomorrow," Fred began and George broke into a huge grin. 

"And if one thing is for certain," George interrupted. 

"Little Miss Dueling Champion'll win her match hands down, no competition, most likely breaking all school records," Fred finished. George turned his attention back to Adrienne, who now had her head on the table and was beginning to fall asleep. 

"Sounds like a plan." 

*** * * * ***

"And boy do we have a show for you tonight!" Neville Longbottom's voice resounded through the Great Hall, mixing with the excited chatter of the crowd, which again consisted of nearly the entire school. 

"Tonight it's Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, both which won their first matches, so this could be quite a show!" 

Dumbledore looked down upon the crowd of students from his perch at the High Table. His light blue eyes roamed across the multitudes of faces, stopping at two faces on the Gryffindor Dueling Team. Adrienne and Harry were sitting side by side. Harry's face was set, his hands folded in his lap, and seemed to be patiently waiting his turn. Adrienne's demeanor, on the other hand, surprised Dumbledore. 

"Look at Adrienne, Jasmine," he whispered to his granddaughter. Professor Lycé looked up from her clipboard, where she was playing tic-tac-toe with Professor Wallace. 

"What about her?" Lycé asked, her purple eyes staring at Adrienne intently. 

"Something's different," Dumbledore whispered. Lycé raised an eyebrow and studied her student. Adrienne shifted in her chair and lowered her head to look at her wand, blocking her face from view. 

"She's probably just trying to either look intimidating or to make her opponent underestimate her," Lycé said, turning her attention back to her game, and warding off Professor Wallace's long nails, which had been tapping her shoulder to alert her that it was her turn. Dumbledore sighed and stared at Adrienne for several more seconds before redirecting his attention. 

"The Captains of the Gryffindor Team are Harry Potter and Adrienne Miles. The Captains of the Ravenclaw team are Cho Chang and Padma Patil," Neville Longbottom's voice interrupted Adrienne's thoughts and Adrienne looked up from her wand. 

"Something wrong, Adrienne?" Harry asked, leaning over so no one else would hear. Adrienne turned and smiled. 

"Of course not, I'm just thinking," she replied. 

"You think we'll win?" Harry asked her. Adrienne pursed her lips in thought. 

"As long as we all duel like we have been in practice, I don't see why not," she replied. Adrienne again bowed her head. 

_'The entire school is here. They'll all be watching you. One sign of something weird, one sign and everything is over,' _echoed the little voice. Adrienne shut her eyes and took a deep breath. 

_'Remember what Harry said, your spells shoot before you finish the incantation. That will not go unnoticed.' _

Adrienne's eyes snapped open and she looked up. Professor McGonagall was making her way down the line, wishing all her students good luck before the tournament started. Just as at the first tournament, she paused in front of Adrienne. 

"I'd like you to go last again, do you mind?" she asked, smiling at her. Adrienne smiled back; however, McGonagall could tell it was forced. 

"That's fine, Professor," Adrienne replied. 

"Are you still worried about your new wand? You've dueled fine in practice, it shouldn't inhibit you at all," McGonagall replied. Adrienne forced herself to smile again. 

"No, I'm not worried about my wand, Professor," Adrienne replied and watched with a feeling of foreboding as her Professor turned and made her way down the line. 

"Not my wand at all," Adrienne whispered. 

"And dueling first are Harry Potter and Padma Patil." 

Cheers echoed through the Great Hall and scarlet banners were raised into the air. Adrienne didn't wish Harry good luck this time. She just watched impassively as he entered the ring. Out of the corner of her eye, Adrienne could see Hermione lean forward and place her elbows on her knees in anticipation. 

"Duelers, face your opponents," Dumbledore's voice resounded through the now quiet room. Harry and Padma faced each other, waited for Dumbledore's instructions, and finally the duel began. 

"Expelliarmus!" Harry exclaimed. Adrienne smiled slightly: That was Harry's favorite attack, probably because he was able to put so much power behind it. But power or not, it didn't help him this time because Padma expertly blocked it. 

"Petrificus Totallus!" she said in a subdued voice, her face completely calm, as if this tournament was no more than a day at the spa to her. 

Harry jumped out of the way and yelled, "Impedimentia!" Adrienne smirked, 'that's the easiest curse to block, why'd he use that one?' But Adrienne's smirk quickly faded as Padma stood frozen to the ground. A small smile broke over Adrienne's face as Harry yelled, "Expelliarmus," and subsequently raised Padma's wand into the air. 

"That's the way, Potter!" Adrienne yelled, standing up and cheering louder than the majority of the fans behind her. 

"Adrienne, sit down," McGonagall hissed at her, leaning over in her chair at the end of the row, "You should know not to distract a dueler until they are out of the ring." Adrienne sat back down and cast a disgruntled glance at Hermione. 

"I can't even cheer," she muttered. 

Harry took Padma's hand and then quickly saluted himself out of the ring. He quickly made his way back to his seat. 

"Harry, that was short," Hermione whispered, turning and smiling at him. 

"Short and sweet, isn't that what you told me once, Adrienne?" he asked, turning to look at Adrienne, but she didn't look up at him. She was once again sitting, her head bowed and staring at her wand. 

"And next up, Hermione Granger and Lisette Warburton," interrupted Neville's voice. 

"Good luck, Herm," Harry whispered, squeezing her shoulder as she stood up. Adrienne didn't even look up. 

_'They're going to notice.' _

'No, they won't,' Adrienne told herself, staring distractedly at her wand. 

'_A murderer at Hogwarts. It'll make the papers.' _

'Go to hell,' Adrienne thought. 

"Stupfiy," Hermione yelled, a bright white light issuing from her wand. Lisette, with a miniscule flick, brushed it aside. 

"Stupify," she shot back, smiling slightly at Hermione, who blocked it as easily as Lisette had. 

"Anoptico!" responded Hermione, but again Lisette just brushed the curse aside and attacked with the same curse. 

"Adrienne, what kind of technique is that girl using?" Harry asked, tapping Adrienne on the shoulder. 

"Huh?" she said, looking up quickly, shaking her head in confusion. 

"That Ravenclaw, she's just copying Hermione," Harry replied. Adrienne's eyes lit up at once, and her face paled. 

"She's going to confuse her. She's going to make Hermi start thinking about why she's copying her. She's going to force her to put her guard down," Adrienne said quickly, and then cast a quick glance at McGonagall, who by the look of her disappointed face was thinking the same thing. 

"Hermi, don't think about it!" Adrienne yelled and then quickly ducked behind Harry as McGonagall stood up and slowly made her way down the row. 

"Densaugeo!" Hermione called. 

"Adrienne," Professor McGonagall shot, "You cannot interrupt their duel by yelling advice." Adrienne looked up at her, her eyes widening at McGonagall's stern face.

"Right, forgot," Adrienne muttered. Once McGonagall had left, Adrienne turned to look at Harry, "Hermione's a gonner." 

"And after five rotations, it's 3-2, Ravenclaw," Neville announced into the groaning crowd. Hermione had indeed lost her match, as had Samantha and Rodney, leaving Lee and Harry as the only to duelers to have won thus far. Adrienne, however, hadn't noticed this. Upon declaring Hermione's eventual defeat to Harry, she had again returned to the silent battle with her mind. So furious was her battle that she missed Ron's startling defeat of Robert Grant, who started crying halfway through his rotation with Ron. This had sent the crowd into hysterics, but not Adrienne. 

*** * * * ***

Unknown to the rest of the school, two students weren't sitting in their places in the stands. Fred and George Weasley were hiding behind the stands on the east side of the Great Hall, crouching over a small pile of Dr. Fillibuster's Fireworks, chanting different charms and reminding themselves of the plan. 

"She's going last, right?" Fred asked, looking away from the Firework he had been charming. 

"Miraculous observation there," George replied, "We won't be able to see her duel, so when will we do it?" Fred turned his attention back to charming, but continued to talk. 

"She'll win, so once she yells Expelliarmus or Stupify, we do it, all right?" Fred muttered. 

"All systems go," George replied. 

*** * * * ***

"And entering the last rotation, the teams are tied, 3-3. Well, doesn't this seem like de'ja'vu?" Neville asked the crowd. The crowd replied with silence. 

"Dueling last for Ravenclaw, Cho Chang!" Cheers erupted from the Ravenclaws and Slytherins. 

"And dueling for the Gryffindors, the Underage International Dueling Champion, Miss Adrienne Lily Miles!" 

Harry turned to Hermione and whispered, "Well isn't Neville just a little biased?" Hermione grinned and then her face fell. Harry turned to see what she was staring at: Adrienne had risen from her chair, her new wand gripped in her fingertips, and she was making her way to the edge of the dueling ring. 

"This can't be good," Hermione whispered, raising a hand to her mouth in horror. A whisper was spreading through the rest of the team, and Hermione and Harry turned to look at McGonagall, who was trying to get Adrienne's attention before she bowed in, but it seemed she couldn't. 

Adrienne slowly made her way to the edge of the ring, her head bowed slightly. She wasn't carrying herself in her usual sure manner. Harry noticed that she was almost reluctant to enter, and just before she saluted herself in, she cast a nervous glance around her, and Harry's eyes caught a vivid expression on her face: an expression of fear. 

Adrienne stopped before Cho. She didn't close her eyes, she didn't take a deep breath, she didn't do anything that she usually did before matches. Instead, she was still battling with her mind. 

_'They're all watching you, all of them. Every single person in the entire school. They'll all know the truth soon.' _

Adrienne winced and bowed to Cho, raising her wand with a shaking hand. 

"On my mark!" Professor Dumbledore said from his perch at the High Table. Adrienne tried to steady her wand, and she narrowed her eyes. Cho stared back at her and took a deep breath, seriously doubting she'd last a second against Adrienne. 

"Three, two, one, mark!" 

It seemed to Harry to have happened in slow motion. Just as Professor Dumbledore had yelled, "mark" a deadly silence had befallen the room. Harry stared as Adrienne's jaw set and she opened her mouth to yell her attack. Across from her Cho screamed, "Expelliarmus." 

"NOW!" George shouted to Fred. Fred jumped back from his pile of fireworks and flicked his wand at them. In an instant, streams of red and gold light were shooting from under the stands, up to the very top of the ceiling and pristine penmanship was etching itself into the cloudy sky: 

**"Long live Adrienne Miles: The Dueling Queen!" **

Fred and George waited for a second for the applause and shrieks of victory to fill the room, but instead an awkward silence filled the air. The twins cast a quick glance at each other and then ran out from their hiding place, stopping in their tracks once the dueling ring came into view. Adrienne was standing rooted to her spot across from Cho, wearing a mixture of sheer horror and surprise: Cho held two wands and slowly, once the realization struck her, raised one into the air. 


	25. Questions of Intentions and Identities

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

These chapter contains various proverbs of origins I don't remember, but which have been told to me by various people at various points in my life. They make their appearance because I feel like and no other reason. Plus... proverbs are fun... kind of. 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 25: Questions of Intentions and Identities**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

  An eerie and deadly silence filled the room and in unison, both Harry and Hermione stood up, dropping their wands onto their chairs, not in horror or disappointment at Gryffindor losing, but in shock at Adrienne. Adrienne staring as if she were watching a video, watched Cho slowly lower Adrienne's wand. She watched Cho's terrified and yet pleased face look at her, trying to calculate what had just taken place. In an instant, a buzz of chatter filled the room and the two teams stood up. Out of the corner of Harry's eye, he could see McGonagall quickly walk to the edge of the ring and stop, waiting with impatience for Adrienne to exit. However, Adrienne didn't make any movement that showed intention of exiting the ring. Instead she was still staring dumbstruck at Cho. And it wasn't until Cho hesitantly held out her hand, still partially waiting for Adrienne to jump at her in hatred, that Adrienne realized that she was still in the dueling ring. Adrienne, as a reflex, reached out and took Cho's hand, shaking it without the firm grip she usually held after a match, and then very slowly, fully aware of all eyes on her, she grabbed back her wand, turned, and began to walk towards the edge of the ring. However, upon seeing Professor McGonagall, standing, waiting for her to exit, Adrienne quickly changed direction and made for a different section of the ring, saluting herself out. This crisp movement served as a floodgate, that once opened, could not be closed. Once she had stepped out of the safe confines of the dueling ring, the room exploded with speech. 

"Did you see that?" 

"I don't believe it!" 

"Some dueling champion she is, loosing to a rank school dueler." 

Adrienne quickened her pace and lifted her head slightly higher, focusing her eyes only on the set of double doors ahead of her. The shocked and amazed conversations were pressing in on her, and she could make out Professor McGonagall's voice among them. 

"Adrienne!" Adrienne didn't turn around. 

"Adrienne, please wait a minute!" Adrienne again didn't make any movement or sound to acknowledge McGonagall's pleads. Instead she took a deep breath, gripped her wand, and continued to walk, refusing to listen to her instincts and run out like an overgrown baby. Despite her refusal to run, and despite the fact that McGonagall had longer legs, Adrienne was quicker. 

"Adrienne!" McGonagall called again just as Adrienne walked through one of the double doors. Adrienne turned around. 

"Adrienne, could I have a word with . . ." and with that, Adrienne slammed the door in her professor's face, dearly hoping she had at least broken her nose. 

"Well, that was unexpected," Hermione said slowly, reaching back down to her seat to retrieve her wand. Harry didn't move nor speak. 

"Unexpected? More like impossible," Ron said, walking up to stand next to them. Harry turned and looked at him. 

"She lost. I fail to see how that is impossible." Ron whipped around and glared at Draco Malfoy who, along with Crabbe and Goyle, had made their way over to the Gryffindor side. 

"Malfoy, go away," Harry replied shortly, staring at him with contempt, feeling his patience slowly draining out of him. 

"Malfoy, go away," Malfoy mimicked in a high, girly voice, "Is that the best you can do, Potter?" Next to him, Crabbe and Goyle smiled demonically. 

"As Adrienne would say, eat socks," Ron snapped. 

"When does she say eat socks?" Hermione asked, bewildered, the events of the last several minutes playing with her mind. 

"One time when I beat her, again, at chess . . . she told me to eat socks," Ron said abruptly. 

"Well, they do seem to be the food source that the likes of you, Weasel, would consume. And speaking of little Miss American Scum . . ." Malfoy started, but Harry had quickly raised his wand and pointed it at him, square between the eyes. 

"Speaking of Adrienne, what exactly were you planning on saying, Ferret-boy?' he asked in a deadly calm. Malfoy first sneered, but taking in the very dull and calculating look playing across the irises' of Harry's eyes, he slowly let his sneer drop. 

"Just saying that it's such a sad sight, her loosing," he said in mock-sympathy, "You know what, I reckon she might go kill herself now. Just think: An orphan, no family, no history, no future. The only thing she ever had was her dueling title, and now that's been stripped from her, well, not technically speaking anyway." 

"Mr. Potter! Isn't fame enough for you, or must you resort to threatening others when things don't go your way?" 

Harry turned, along with Hermione, and Ron. Draco didn't, he just stood there, grinning evilly. Professor Snape was making his way to the group, his black robes billowing ominously, and a smirk playing on his sallow face. 

"Well, what do we have here? Threatening a student with physical injury?" Snape asked slowly, upon arriving into the proximity. Harry fought the urge to glare and slowly lowered his wand. 

"No Professor," he began, looking up at Snape with a face of mock sincerity, "just showing Draco proper placement of a charm to alter mental status." 

"Mr. Malfoy doesn't need dueling help from the likes of you, or, dear me, your team. Seems to me that Miss Miles is having quite the bad year, isn't she?" he asked without breaking a hint of a smile or a frown. Harry glared at Snape and bit the insides of his cheeks in a desperate attempt to keep from lashing out with the Cruciatus Curse, or just lunging forward and sticking his wand up Snape's nose, which Harry had to admit was a wonderful target, and throwing him to the ground, while getting some good kicks in on some key places. This, fortunately for Harry, and unfortunately for Snape, never had the opportunity to manifest itself, as Professor Dumbledore had suddenly called for Snape's attention. 

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter, for being a sore loser. Come Mr. Malfoy," and with that, Snape strode away, followed, rather reluctantly by a very curious and miffed Draco. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione pushed their way through the throngs of students now exiting the stands and making a mad rush towards the doors. After several minutes of being pushed, elbowed, hollered at, stepped on, and tripped, the trio pushed their way out of the pack and rushed up the marble staircase, quickening their pace in an attempt to beat the rest of the Gryffindors to the common room. 

"Do you think someone should go talk to her?" Harry asked unsurely as they walked through the empty corridor. The only other sound besides their shuffling of feet was the muffled voices of the students several floors below, drifting through the stone walls. 

"I'll go," Hermione offered gingerly as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was now looking down at them with an expectant and curious face. Harry stopped in his tracks and turned. 

"Now wait a second, she's my sister, perhaps I should go talk to her," he said quickly. Hermione raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

"I spend more time with her than you do. Plus, we tell each other so much all ready, it wouldn't be that hard to start a heart to heart with her." 

"Does she talk to you about me?" Ron asked hopefully upon hearing about the two girls' gabfest. Hermione dismissed this question with an impatient wave of her hand. 

"She's my . . ." Harry started but was rudely interrupted by the now impatient Fat Lady. 

"What went on with the other girl?" she asked in a ruffled voice, partly because she always felt the last to know something because no one ever bothered to fill her in on the castle's events except for her friend, Violet, who was currently harboring an infatuation with Sir Cadogan, the Mad Knight, that prevented any kind of meaningful conversation. 

"She's in there?" Ron asked, turning to look at the portrait. 

"Of course she is, woke me up half-right too, yelling at some person I couldn't see to shut up. You don't suppose she has one of those, what do the Muggles call them, Invisible Friends, do you? Or at least that's what Violet said they were; come to think of it, she might have said, Delusionary Friends, or perhaps she meant. . ." 

"Samoa!" Harry exclaimed in exasperation, raising his eyebrows in half terror at her uncharacteristic need to talk. 

"You don't have to get so bent out of shape," the Fat Lady snapped back before tearing herself from the wall. Harry, Ron, and Hermione quickly climbed through, and Harry could have sworn he heard the portrait mumble: 

"Kids these days, don't care about anything except themselves," as she swung back into place. The Gryffindor common room was empty, and Harry sighed at the thought of knowing that they had beaten the rest of the students. He quickly walked towards the spiral staircase. 

"You can't go up there, Harry!" Hermione called after him, beginning to jog to catch up with him. 

"And why not, you've come in our dormitory loads of times," he said, turning and looking at her with a smug smile. Hermione rolled her eyes. 

"That was different," she said slowly, not being able to think of another argument. 

"Right, Hermione. You just want to go talk to her first," Harry replied. 

"I know, since you two can't make up your mind, I'll go talk to her," Ron said quickly, pushing past Hermione to reach the staircase. 

"Wait a second," she spat, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder, "You can't go up there either." Using this distraction, Harry turned back around and hurtled up the staircase and out of sight. Hermione's jaw dropped and turned her attention back to Ron, who took a step backwards at her glare. 

"He's a guy, he'll have no idea what to say to her," she said bitterly. 

"And what were you going to say, _woman_?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow at Hermione's remark. 

"I just meant he might say the wrong thing." 

"Like what? I know you're my sister and all, and I know that you've just been nearly burned, frozen, captured, perhaps killed, but why the hell did you have to go and lose?" Ron suggested. Hermione rolled her eyes. 

"I doubt he'll say something that stupid," but then her face contorted into a fearful grimace, "At least I hope not." 

*** * * * ***

Harry knocked softly on the closed door, and then, ever so slowly, opened the door, bracing himself in case Adrienne decided to throw a pillow at him. She didn't. The fifth year girls dormitory was dark, the only light coming from the moon, shining through the window. Harry narrowed his eyes and let them wander through the room, looking for a sign of Adrienne. None of the bed hangings were closed and she wasn't standing up. Harry took another step into the room and slowly shut the door behind him. 

"Adrienne," he called slowly, his eyes falling upon a pair of feet lying across a bed in the far corner. Harry smiled, confused, and walked towards the legs. Once he rounded the bed, he quickly raised a hand to his mouth in an attempt to mask his laugh. Adrienne was hanging over the edge of her bed, her head resting on the floor, her feet on the opposite edge of the bed, her arms crossed against her chest, her eyes staring into the dark ceiling. 

"Adrienne, what exactly are you doing?" Harry asked slowly, walking over and stopping right next to her contorted body. 

"Trying to drown my mind in blood," she replied dully, her eyes not moving to look at him, just continuing to stare into the ceiling. 

"Right, and you would want to do that why?" he asked, sitting onto the edge of her bed and looking down at her. Adrienne didn't move. Harry pursed his lips. 

"You're turning purple," he said. Adrienne blinked. 

"Why don't you sit up, you look like you're going to pass out," he suggested, reaching a hand down to pull her up. Adrienne didn't take it. 

"I'm quite comfortable, thank you," she replied, blinking impassively. Harry didn't reply and just continued to sit there, turning his attention to the window. After several quiet minutes, Adrienne broke the silence. 

"I don't suppose you came up here just to sit on my bed, which is the same type, style, and brand as yours," she said, swinging her legs off the bed, over her head and down to the floor. She quickly straightened, pulled her robes in several places to unwrinkled them, and then turned to look at Harry. 

"Everyone losses sometime," she said matter-of-factly. Harry looked at her and smiled. 

"I know," he replied. 

"Then why'd you come up here?" she asked in disgust. Harry stared at her for a second before beginning to speak. 

"Well, you didn't look yourself before the match. You seemed to be preoccupied or something. I just wanted to know if you were all right," he said, trying to choose his words wisely, reminding himself that Adrienne had been quite defensive lately. Adrienne raised an eyebrow, half in surprise and half in fear. 

"I'm fine, Harry," she said, and then taking in his skeptical face, sat down next to him, "Really, I just had an off day. Added to every other off day I'm having lately, it must seem like a lot, but I'm fine. I'm just getting back into the swing of things, ya know?" she asked in a quiet voice, hoping that she was coming off with an angelic sincerity. 

Harry looked at her. In the moonlight she looked paler than he had been used to seeing her as. And if the light hit her right it looked almost as if she was beginning to get dark circles under her eyes, the same dark circles that had overtaken Hermione's face after she had spent all her time studying their third year, and the same dark circles that had marked the times following Professor Lupin's transformations. Harry thought she looked exhausted, almost as if she was at the edge of sanity. Something else about her reminded him of someone, but he couldn't think of what. Adrienne smiled at him and put a hand on his shoulder. 

"Now, Potter, I'm fine, but if you get caught up here, it's going to raise interesting questions from the rest of those 'sunny' classmates of ours," Adrienne said, thinking mainly of Lavender and Parvati, "If I ever had anything important bothering me, you know I'd talk to you, right?" Adrienne slowly crossed the fingers on her right hand, which she had hidden behind her leg. Harry stood up and smiled at her. 

"You sure you're all right?" he asked. 

"Of course," she replied, standing up and giving him a hug, just to add effect. This took Harry be surprise, but he hugged her back and then stepped away. 

"I'll be down a little later," said Adrienne, turning to her bedside cabinet, "I gotta do a couple things." 

"You're fine then?" Harry asked again. Adrienne turned back and looked at him. 

"I'm fine, seriously." 

"Good." And with that Harry walked towards the door, stopping once he had opened it, to glance one more time at Adrienne. From this distance, in the moonlight, Harry realized exactly who she reminded him of: Sirius Black in his wanted poster. She too was now pale, thin, and had a ghostly aura around her face. 'Fine my foot,' he told himself, and then firmly shut the door. 

*** * * * ***

A burst of noise filled Harry's ears as he reached the staircase and made his descent. From the looks of it, the entire house was gathered in the common room. Angry students were gesticulating and shouting frantically at the duelers who had lost. 

"Hermione! You are supposed to be the smartest person in the school!" Parvati said with an air of superiority, "And you lost to a Ravenclaw? I guess there went your reputation." Hermione raised an eyebrow and clenched her jaw. 

"At least she's on the dueling team," Ron spat. Harry walked up to his two friends, his eyes flickering over the scene in front of him. Hermione was balling her fists, Ron was going red, and Parvati was talking herself blue. 

"Excuse me, Parvati, Fred and George are over there discrediting divination," Harry began, not even being able to finish, because in a wisk of motion Parvati had swept away, drawing her robes around her in an intimidating fashion. Hermione looked up. 

"Frog," Hermione muttered as Parvati sped away, "What did Adrienne say?" 

Harry quickly looked down at his shoes, suddenly becoming very interested in a smudge against the black coloring. Harry had to admit, he really hadn't learned anything from Adrienne. In actuality, he was now more confused than he had been before talking to her. 

"Well," he began, "she's claiming she had an off day." Hermione made a skeptical face and reached for her two friends hands, pulling them towards their usual table, which was currently inhabiting the only quiet part of the room. 

"She didn't look very confident before entering the ring," Hermione began in a hushed voice once everyone was seated. Ron nodded. 

"Something's bothering her. She hasn't acted herself at all. One minute she's living in a sarcastic dimension where all she can say is something crazy, the next she's flooding the Transfiguration classroom," he said, leaning back in his chair and staring at Harry. Harry turned his attention to a nearby dark window and stared absently out it. 

"She's acting somewhat like you did, give or take the mood swings and such," Hermione started. Harry turned his head, his green eyes piercing the brown ones staring at him. He sighed. 

"I assume your referring to after the Third Task," he said in a subdued tone. Hermione nodded her head and Ron's already sad face began to harbor a frown. 

"She was saying things about it not being her fault, right, Harry?" Hermione asked. 

"Yes." 

Hermione clasped her hands in her lap. 

"Perhaps she's blaming the attack on herself. The article did say it was rumored that Voldemort came for her," she said quietly. 

Harry frowned and didn't reply. The three sat in silence, letting the surrounding chatter flow through their minds, turning their attentions to the bits and pieces of angry conversation. It was Ron who finally broke their silence. 

"I can't believe we lost," he mumbled. 

*** * * * ***

That night Adrienne lay awake, hidden behind her drawings, her eyes staring into the red curtains, her mind drifting to another world. It was a surprise to her as much as anybody, her losing. She cursed under her breath and slowly sat up. Somehow, though, while entering the ring, she knew she'd lose. She had been contemplating throwing the match all together, that is, if the team wouldn't need her win for a victory. Adrienne took a deep breath and drew her knees up to her chest. Her entire walk to the dueling ring had been plagued by the voice in the back of her head, and now, reflecting on the events that took place in the ring, Adrienne realized exactly why she lost. She shut her eyes and bit her lip. She had been afraid of doing something that would arose suspicion, she had lost her edge during her duel. 

'If it hadn't been for that damned voice I would have won,' she thought as she slowly laid back onto her pillow. 

"It's all your fault," she whispered to her mind, which didn't reply. She sighed. "I could have won." 

_'Of course you could have, and then they'd all know. It was for your own good,'_ replied the voice. Adrienne shut her eyes, trying desperately to block it out. 

*** * * * ***

"My Lord?" 

Voldemort looked up from his chair, his long spider-like hands gripping his wand, a satisfied smile on his face. 

"Yes, Lucius?" he replied in a subdued tone that Lucius had never heard before. He shuddered and stepped closer to the chair. 

"I received an owl from Draco. It seems that the Potter girl lost her duel," he said quietly, not looking into the red eyes that were piercing, as ever, the semi-darkness of the stone chamber. 

"I know, Lucius." 

Lucius shifted his eyes to look at his master. Voldemort stared back at him, an evil grin slowly spreading across his face. 

"You do?" Lucius asked in surprise. 

"Of course I did. What did I say, Lucius? What did I tell all of you?" Voldemort asked with a hint of impatience. Lucius screwed up his pale face in thought. 

"Tell us about what?" he asked, not knowing the answer. Voldemort's grin widened. 

"She's mentally weak," he replied. 

"I'm afraid I don't follow you, my Lord," Lucius replied. Voldemort stood up, placing his wand back into a pocket of his robes. 

"Ask yourself why she lost," he ordered. 

Lucius made a face under his mask: He hated these games. 

"Because the other girl was better?" he suggested with a tinge of impatience. 

"Fool, her opponent is nothing compared to her." Voldemort paused here, and before Lucius could reply, started speaking again. "And Adrienne is nothing compared to me. Easily manipulated she is. She'll prove quite useful." 

*** * * * ***

As it turned out, the whole of Gryffindor House took Adrienne losing her match as a personal insult, especially Parvati and Lavender. 

"Really, why couldn't you stay in America?" Parvati asked Adrienne as she made her way to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Adrienne didn't reply and just quickened her pace, causing Harry, Ron, and Hermione to fall behind her. 

"We could have won had it not been for you, Miles," Lavender called after her. 

"Leave her alone," Harry said, turning to look at the two girls. They just glared back at him. 

"How can you stand being a co-captain with her?" Parvati snapped, and then laughing shrilly, sashayed on ahead, Lavender on her heals. 

Harry took a seat between Hermione and Ron, and cast Adrienne a smile over Hermione's bent head. Hermione was rapidly flipping through her Defense textbook, seemingly interested in nothing at all, just glancing at random pages. The student's chatter died away with the sound of approaching heels. In a few seconds, Professor Wallace, wearing light green robes, entered the room. Harry's eyes widened in surprise, as did the rest of the class. Professor Wallace no longer sported short spiky blond hair, but now buzz cut that reminded Harry of pictures of army men. 

"Dear me, am I late?" she asked, while placing a square box into her desk. She smiled a cheery smile at her students and then glanced around the room excitedly. "Ah, today I was thinking . . ." she began. Hermione raised her eyebrows skeptically: She couldn't really see Professor Wallace, with her now buzzed hair; her ears, each sporting at least six hoop earrings; wearing green robes; and inch long bright purple nails, thinking. ". . .what about starting some more MSB simulations?" she asked with an air of excitement. 

During the last term, everyone had had a chance to use the MSB without her assigning them an opponent: They just faced whatever appeared when they entered. Hermione had found herself face to face with a large man bearing a Muggle gun, which she had disarmed quite easily. Ron had found himself up against a larger version of Hagrid's Fluffy, to whom he began signing "Mary Had a Little Lamb" in an off-pitch voice that caused the class to plug their ears. Harry had met a Dementor, and his performing the Patronus charm sent Professor Wallace into hysterics at his excellence. 

"But today, as you all so wonderfully achieved success in your first experience, I'll be assigning you an opponent to face. One, which I feel, would most best suit your defense level," she said excitedly, clasping her hands in front of her in anticipation. Harry turned to look at Hermione, but didn't catch her eye, as she had now turned her attention back to her text book. 

"Mr. Potter, why don't you go first?" 

Harry shrugged and stood up, a little nervous at what he might be forced to face, but then, upon reminding himself about his now superb dueling abilities, he took a deep breath and stepped forward. Professor Wallace's grin widened and her purple eyes glinted with either excitement or fear, Harry couldn't determine which. 

"Perfect, Mr. Potter, I have just the right thing for you. Do come forward," she said, turning around and opening the box sitting on her desk. She slowly pulled out the MSB and then turned to face the class again. 

"Just like last time, Mr. Potter. You go in, flick your wand here and there, and we watch ya," she said, handing the circular orb to him. 

Harry took it, placing his left hand beneath it, and his right hand on top. Just as before, a bolt of energy flew through his body, and as soon as it had started, it had stopped. Harry pulled on his robes to straighten them and then reached for his wand. 

He looked around at his surroundings. He was in a large stone room. Along the walls were torches, yet somehow, despite their numerous count, they provided very little light. In the dim light, he could make out very little except for a chair centered in the middle, in the brightest part of the room. It seemed to Harry that the torches were lit so that they almost spotlighted the elegant, silver chair. 

Harry stared at it curiously. It had an emerald green backing and seat cushion that looked splendid in the little light. The legs of the chair were silver, and the feet were shaped as snake heads with open mouths. The back green cushion was surrounded by intricate carvings of silver snakes, culminating with two snakes rising from the top, facing each other, their mouths open, their fangs beared, ready to strike. Harry shuddered slightly. 

He looked around the room, expecting his opponent to barge in any second, but no one else entered the room. Harry turned his attention back to the chair and for the first time noticed a small table next to it. He took a few tentative steps, drawing him close enough to see what was lying on the top: a golden box. Harry looked around the room again, and then, after confirming he was still alone, he closed the space between himself and the table, and reached for the box. Slowly he lifted the plain golden lid. 

Harry stared at the contents. A lone pendent lay against the blood red cushions. Harry had seen that pendent somewhere and he closed his eyes in an attempt to remember where. In the corner, oblivious to Harry, someone moved. 

"The Golden Serpent?" Harry whispered, opening his eyes and refocusing them on the pendent. 

Indeed, a small statue of a golden serpent, attached to a golden chain lay in the box. He slowly reached his hand inside to pick it up, but just as he touched it, a movement drew his attention. Harry quickly jerked his head up and slammed the lid shut, grabbing his wand from his left hand. Out of the corner, out of a doorway that he hadn't noticed before, cloaked figures were entering the room. They walked in a silent procession, right past him, as if he wasn't even there, and then lined themselves up against a wall, all facing the chair and Harry. Harry raised his wand in front of him and drew in a short breath. 

"Death Eaters," he whispered. 

"Your memory is commendable, Mr. Potter," said a cold voice behind him. Harry spun around and watched in horror as two red eyes emerged from the darkness. At first, Harry didn't believe his eyes. 

'It can't be Voldemort,' he told himself, 'My scar doesn't hurt.' But then he realized that perhaps while in the bubble, it wouldn't, because Voldemort was no immediate threat to him there. 

Back in the classroom, Adrienne pushed her chair back in horror. Several others had done the same thing. Hermione and Ron just sat there, shaking their heads and shooting hateful glares at Professor Wallace, who settled onto her desk as if she was going to watch a boxing match or something alone that sort of line. 

Inside the bubble, Harry didn't move. He waited for pseudo-Voldemort to speak again, but the man just stood there, glaring at him. Harry, in an instant, positioned his wand between him and pseudo-Voldemort. 

"You think you can beat me, Harry?" Pseudo-Voldemort whispered, "Foolish boy, I have already won. No one can save you now." Harry didn't reply, deciding that as long as he was safe, he'd let pseudo-Voldemort speak, maybe he'd get some information. 

"So, you've seen the Golden Serpent?" Pseudo-Voldemort said, not really asking a question. He took a step towards Harry. 

"What do you want with it?" Harry asked, although he knew the answer. 

"Do you know who you accepted into your midst?" Pseudo-Voldemort asked in a cold voice. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said quietly, his eyes narrowing. 

"No one can stop me, Potter, no one." Pseudo-Voldemort was just feet away from him now, and Harry took an involuntary step backwards. 

"Your assignment, Potter, to duel me and win. But you can't can you? No, so I'll make it easier on you," he said in a snide voice, reaching into his robes and withdrawing his wand. 

"Next time we meet, Potter, it will be real." 

Pseudo-Voldemort bent down and placed his wand on the floor, keeping his gaze on Harry the entire time. He stood up with a triumphant look on his face. Harry didn't move, not quite knowing what to do. He hadn't expected this, and as he stood there, staring into the eyes of the man in front of him, he could feel a sour hatred rising from his gut and he tightened his grip on his wand. 

"How can you expect to defeat me when you can't even face me here? There you go, I'm disarmed." 

Harry didn't move or blink. He just stood there and then slowly, realizing that attacking a fake Voldemort now would be dumb as it wouldn't make a difference, he slowly raised his hands in front of him to cup the imaginary bubble. 

"One gets drowned even in shallow water, Potter," pseudo-Voldemort whispered to Harry's disappearing image. 

With a slight flash of light, Harry appeared inside the Defense classroom. His eyes immediately fell on Professor Wallace, who was wearing a look of extreme disappointment, having expected a fabulously entertaining duel. 

"Here you go, Professor," Harry mumbled, handing her the MSB. 

He turned on his heal. The entire class was staring at him, all wearing the same expression of shock, fear, and sympathy. All except Adrienne, who was standing up, a hand over her mouth in horror, her mind working over what pseudo-Voldemort had said. Very slowly Adrienne lowered her hand, and then as quick as a flash, grabbed her bag and ran towards the door, slamming it behind her. 

"Miss Miles!" Professor Wallace called after her, but made no other attempt to bring back her student. "You may take your seat, Potter," she said with a hint of animosity. Harry slowly walked back to his seat, fully aware of everyone's eyes following him, boring into him. 

"Well, that was interesting," Hermione whispered to him once he was seated. Harry raised an eyebrow. 

"What did he mean by that last thing," he whispered, surprised as much as Hermione was at his calmness. 

"I'm not sure," she whispered back. 

"What happened to Adrienne?" Harry asked, turning his attention to her empty seat. Hermione leaned back in her chair. 

"Well, she ran out," was all she replied, earning her a patronizing glance from Harry. 

"I surmised as much." 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne ran through the empty corridors, her footsteps echoing behind her, acting as a shadow she couldn't escape. She pushed her way into the second floor bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her, leaning back against it, her palms pressed, her eyes tearing. 

"Who's there?" came a voice from a nearby stall. Adrienne jumped and snapped her eyes open. 

"Me, Adrienne," she said hesitantly, staring with a confused expression: All the stall doors were open. 

"What do you want?" came the voice. Adrienne narrowed her eyes in curiosity and followed the sound of the voice, her footsteps now muffled by the puddles of water on the bathroom floor. 

"Do they not clean this bathroom?" she asked, and a sniffle responded from the furthest away stall. Adrienne raised her eyebrows, took a deep breath, and stuck her head in. A pearly white girl was sitting atop the toilet, staring at her from behind huge, ugly glasses. 

"You come in here and insult my bathroom?" the girl asked in frustration. Adrienne stared at her. 

"Um, no, it's a nice bathroom, really it is, but a little wet," 

At this Moaning Myrtle screwed up her eyes. 

"But I like wet, very; love water I do, really, honestly, I swear," Adrienne said hastily, realizing she must have offended the girl. Myrtle looked at her for a second, trying to decide how best to continue their limited conversation. 

"That's it! You're just like everyone else! You all come in here and make fun of Myrtle, why? Because she's dead, she can't do anything about it. Let's all pick on Myrtle," she yelled. Adrienne raised her eyebrows. 

"Um, sorry," she replied, and then stepped back from the stall, turned and quickly made her way to the bathroom door, not once looking in the mirror. She hadn't looked in the mirror since that day in the hospital wing, and she refused to do so again: She refused to see herself, to see who she really was, or at least, who the voice in her head said she was. 

Adrienne walked quietly towards the Gryffindor common room. 

_'One gets drowned even in shallow water,' _said the cold voice, echoing inside her skull. Adrienne rolled her eyes and quickened her pace. _'You know what that means?' _

"Of course I do," she snapped aloud, earning her some odd looks from several nearby pictures. 

_'The destiny of a wolf cub is to become a wolf, even it is reared about the sons of men,' _said the voice in a patronizing voice. Adrienne stopped dead in her tracks. 

"And what does that mean?" she asked. 

_'You can't change your destiny,' _it replied. 

Ahead of Adrienne a large window showed the slowly falling snow drifting lazily to the ground, reflecting the sun's weak light. Adrienne preferred to focus on this and not the voice. She smiled slightly at its beauty. 

_'You can't change your destiny,'_ the voice repeated. 

"I heard you the first time." Adrienne put her hands on her hips and continued to stare out the window. 

"What are you talking about?" she asked. v _'You know exactly what I'm talking about.' _Adrienne ripped her eyes from the window. 

"No, I have no idea what you're talking about." 

_'Then you will.' _

"Who are you?" she spat, gripping her hips so hard that it hurt. 

_'My dear Adrienne, you know who I am.' _

Adrienne rolled her eyes. "I don't." 

_'Perfection has a price, Adrienne. You will pay it in full.' _

"You never said who you were," she whispered, the voice's last sentence echoing through her mind, leaving her with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

_'I am the only one who can help you fulfill your destiny. The question is not who I am though, it is who you are? The shallow water is always the most dangerous, is it not, Perfect? He will die, because of you, at your order, by your hand. And then you, Perfect, will follow him. Perfection has a price, Adrienne, I promise.' _


	26. Cumolo

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

Author's Note: I know, I know... Trelawney is a little out of character, but it's the best I could do... I found her extremely difficult to write. The idea of Cumolo is derived from Newtonian Theory, and then twisted by my imagination... of course. 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 26: Cumolo**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Adrienne rolled over in her bed and raised her hand lazily to her eyes. As her eyes began to focus, she smiled slightly and sat up. Her bed was the closest to the window, from which, having slept with her hangings open, Adrienne could stare out of. Several feet away from her, the bright moon was shining through the black early morning sky. The white snow, now filled with the multitudes of student footprints was glistening in the moonlight. Adrienne's smile widened and she stood up, walked over to the window and slowly, trying to be as silent as possible, opened it. 

"Wow," she muttered, reaching her bare arm out of it, "The snow will be melting soon this year." 

This didn't bother Adrienne at all, as currently she wasn't quite fond of snow, let alone the cold. Adrienne turned around and made her way back to her bed, quickly changing into a pair of sweats and running shoes. Just as dawn began to break, Adrienne jumped from her window, Firebolt in hand, deciding it was time to start running again. 

"The destiny of a wolf cub is to become a wolf, even if it is reared by the sons of men," Adrienne whispered as she rounded the Quidditch Stadium. No one answered except the quiet crunching of her shoes on the packed snow. 

"Sure, now you leave me alone," she said menacingly, clenching her fists, mentally challenging someone to respond to her. 

Adrienne picked up her pace, unconsciously slamming her feet into the ground harder than necessary. At first, Adrienne thought it had been her guilty conscious blaming her for that night at Salem, but now she knew she was wrong. The voice in her head was not a product of her imagination or her conscious, but what it was a product of, she had no idea. All she knew was that she was partially at fault for all those deaths, and whomever was living in her mind wasn't going to let her forget it. 

*** * * * ***

"Any idea where Adrienne is?" Harry asked as he reached across the table for the jug of orange juice. Hermione looked up from her oatmeal. 

"None whatsoever. She wasn't in the dormitory when I woke; I haven't seen her since last night," she replied, staring across the table to look at Harry and Ron. 

"What do you mean she wasn't there. What did she do, vanish into thin air?" Ron asked in a confused tone. 

"Well, that brings up an interesting idea, doesn't it? I heard that they learn to Apparate earlier at her old school; perhaps she Apparates out of here every night to work at a pub to earn some money. You know what I heard? She has to get handouts from those professors at that school," Parvati hissed, leaning towards Hermione, a smug smile on her face. Hermione raised an eyebrow and calmly lowered her fork to her plate. 

"Really, Parvati," Hermione said in an even voice, turning to stare at Parvati with an expression that made Harry cover his mouth to hide his laughter. 

"I swear, my mum and aunt were visiting the Gallows the day she bought her formal. They say that her teachers had to pay for it because she couldn't afford it," Parvati said in an important voice, momentarily letting her usual airy, superior demeanor drop. 

"Is that so," said Hermione skeptically, carefully planning her words, "Have you two by any chance foreseen her working in a pub. I mean, do you know which pub, and exactly what she . . . um . . . does?" In a second, Parvati took the bait, Lavender too, leaning forward in her chair to join in on the conversation. 

"Oh of course we have," Parvati proclaimed, tossing her dark hair behind her and letting her facial expression become a mix of impassivity and sincerity. 

"We have been foreseeing this for some time now," Lavender interrupted, assuming the same demeanor as Parvati. 

"We were just crystal gazing yesterday," Parvati said mysteriously. 

"when the fates blessed upon us, true Seers . . ." interrupted Lavender. 

"the sight of the future," continued Parvati. 

"With such an opportunity . . ." 

"what were we to do . . ." 

"but accept our gift with humble graciousness . . ." 

"and allow the fates to use us as the please, . . ." 

"their humble servants," finished Lavender. 

"Humble?" Ron whispered to Harry, who was still covering his mouth to hide his laughter. 

"Until then we were not privy to such information as her occupation," Parvati whispered wide-eyed. 

"We had only seen her Apparation . . ." 

"Not revealed to us, her destination . . ." 

"But there, in the orb . . ." 

"Lay more knowledge to yet absorb . . ." 

"The dreary mist of omnipotence gave way . . ." 

"And in there, for our viewing, lay . . ." 

"Is there a reason they're rhyming?" Ron asked, leaning over closer to Harry, who was now turning bright red with laughter. 

"Just watch . . . they played right into . . . watch," he stuttered between stifled laughs. Hermione was looking fixedly at her two classmates with a closed expression, waiting for the right time. 

"The truth about the girl named Miles." 

"For each night at the stroke of new day . . ." 

"The spell for apparation she does say . . ." 

"From the hidden sanctity of her bed . . ." 

"She leaves for a world that she should dread . . ." 

"Brilliance!" interrupted Hermione. Parvati and Lavender leaned back, slightly aghast at the thought of anyone interrupting them. 

"I beg your pardon?" Lavender asked. 

"I just find it amazing; the coordination, the effort. Do tell me, do you practice this or can you two use your 'sight of the future' to access each other's minds? Come on, with such rhyming talent as you have, you could at least put some effort into your lies." 

"I do not see your meaning," Parvati said hoarsely, her mind furiously working over what she could have said wrong. 

"You know my meaning, you daft, bloody frogs," Hermione spat. 

Lavender swallowed, but if she was uncomfortable, Harry couldn't tell. 

"Lying? We are only speaking the truth of the Inner Eye," she responded. 

"Well then, I say your Inner Eye needs checking." 

Lavender raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. 

"And what do you know about the Inner Eye, you who was proclaimed to be hopelessly mundane?" she said snidely. Hermione raised an eyebrow. 

"The Inner Eye? I know nothing about that, but I do know that you cannot Apparate or Disapparate within the Hogwarts' grounds. And that piece of information, my dear faithful seers, tears to shreds the foundation of your prediction. Ah, what a wonder, is it not? The knowledge you can get from reading? The strongest and most sure Inner Eye I'm aware of is the one focused and trained through the pursuit of knowledge, and that, I do know," Hermione said very calmly, her face void of expression. "Hopelessly mundane I may be, but upon the earth I plant my feet, not upon the ever changing illusion of clouds." 

Parvati opened her mouth to say something but then closed it, either too confused at what Hermione had said, or too dumb to think of a reply, Harry couldn't determine which. 

"You know nothing of true knowledge. This world is not run by text books, it is run by fate. Not one person can change their fate, their destiny," Lavender said solemnly. 

"And who determines this fate?" Hermione asked slowly, her eyes piercing Lavender's like daggers. 

"Fate is not determined, it has always been, and always it shall remain," Parvati whispered. 

"So, the fate of Adrienne would be to spend her nights as a Scarlet girl?" Hermione snapped. 

"We do not know her destiny, the orb was too clouded for us to read it," Parvati lied again, starting to wish that she had left well enough alone and had passed up the opportunity to try and discredit her classmate. 

"So, the fates are undecided?" Hermione asked, a smug smile appearing on her face. Lavender glanced at Parvati and then stood up. 

"We must leave," she said quickly, pulling her friends arm. Parvati stood up hurriedly and nodded her agreement. 

"No one knows the story of tomorrow's dawn," Hermione called after them. Parvati turned. 

"What makes you believe we see the dawn and not the dusk?" she called and then hurried from the room. Hermione turned back around. Harry and Ron stared at her with amused faces and then burst into laughter, lowering their heads to the table in hysterics. 

"That, Hermione, was perfect! That'll teach them to make up stories!" Ron exclaimed, finally catching his breath enough to talk. 

"They didn't know what to say, those dumb oafs," Harry said between gasps for air. Hermione didn't reply, but sat quietly in her seat. Finally she looked up, her face not filled with the smugness of success, but with a curious expression neither boy could read. 

"Where is Adrienne?" she asked slowly. 

"Don't know, but I'll check the pubs," Ron said and then burst again into laughter. *** * * * * ** The dormitory was empty when Adrienne pushed the window open and flew in. She quickly dismounted and then shut the window tightly behind her. She looked around the room, brightened with the morning light. 

"Am I that late?" she whispered, walking towards her bed. She tossed her broom onto the messy comforter and looked around the room again, careful to avoid the mirror. 

"How long did I run?" she said aloud. No one answered. Adrienne shrugged her shoulders and walked towards the door with intents of taking a shower. 

_'So, Quidditch game today?' _

Adrienne stopped in her tracks. 

_'Will you win?' _

Adrienne balled her fists. "Leave me alone," she whispered to the empty room. A high echoing laugh vibrated though her mind. 

_'I asked you if you would win?' _

Adrienne raised her hands to her head and unconsciously grabbed her hair. 

_'When I ask you a question, you will respond, girl!' _

"You can't make me do anything," she whispered. The laughter grew louder. 

_'Is that so? Well, child, I made you lose your duel, didn't I? I can make you do anything. I could make you miss your Quidditch game too. Would you like me to show you?'_

Adrienne let go of her hair and took a deep breath. 

"Who are you?" she hissed, her eyes narrowed in fury. 

_'I'll make you a deal, child,' _the voice said slowly, 

"Who are you?" Adrienne said again, stumbling backwards, her head staring to throb with the voice's echoes. 

_'I alone write your destiny. I alone write your future. I can give you everything, and I can take it all away,'_ the voice whispered. Adrienne took a deep breath. _'You'll be an outcast if they know how many people died because of you.' _

Adrienne took another step backwards. 

_'All I ask for is your cooperation. All I ask for is your help. With your help I can do anything. You will help me, won't you, Adrienne?' _

"I'll help you slit your throat, does that count?" Adrienne hissed. 

_'Temper, temper, Adrienne, it won't be my throat that you slit.' _

"If you don't leave me alone . . . I'll . . . I'll tell - " 

_'Who will you tell?' _asked the voice as laughter echoed through her skull. _'You'll tell your brother? Do that. He won't believe you. Tell him, child. He could care less,'_ the voice hissed. 

Adrienne sat down on Hermione's bed. "He cares about me, he saved my life," she whispered. 

_'Why did he save your life?' _

"Because . . ." but Adrienne didn't know the answer. 

_'You dying would take attention from him, but saving you, that would give him even more fame.' _

"That isn't true," Adrienne spat. 

_'But it is. Do you ever wonder why he made it into the Tri-wizard tournament?' _

"Someone else put his name in, that's what he told the newspapers." 

_'He did it himself,'_ the voice lied. _'He couldn't stand someone else getting the fame, the glory. He doesn't care about you.' _

"He does too!" 

_'Then where is he now? It's nine; your game starts at ten. Why isn't he worried about where you are? Where is he now, Adrienne?' _Adrienne didn't reply._ 'He isn't here, but I am. I always will be.' _

Adrienne closed her eyes, her headache worse. 

_'Don't fight me, Adrienne. Follow my directions, and you'll live. I'll give you everything. Just listen to me.' _

Adrienne shook her head and climbed onto Hermione's bed, shoving Crookshanks off the pillow, buried her head in it, and quickly drifted into sleep. 

Back in his chamber, Voldemort lowered two wands and laughed, a high, shrill laugh that echoed through the stone room. 

*** * * * * ** "When's the game again?" Ron said, finally pushing his plate away from him and holding his stomach while mentally criticizing himself for eating so much. 

"Ten," Harry replied, pushing back his sleeve to look at his watch, "Which means, I should probably go and get my broom." 

"Right, and we'll go find good seats," Ron said, standing up after Harry. 

"What about Adrienne?" Hermione asked as the three made their way through the emptying Great Hall; all the other students, it seemed, had the same idea as Ron and were making their way for the stadium too. 

"What about her?" Ron asked, opening the door, "I bet she's all ready out there, the game does start in twenty minutes." Hermione made a face at this but didn't say anything and let Ron lead her towards the large oak entrance doors. 

"Good luck, Harry!" Hermione and Ron called as the door shut behind them. 

Harry raced up the marble staircase, his footsteps lost in the rumbling of the student voices. 

"Samoa," Harry whispered upon reaching the Fat Lady, who swung open slowly, glaring at him, still miffed at his rude behavior the night of the last dueling tournament. 

The common room was almost empty, several straggling first years were making their way down the spiral staircase, throwing thumbs up at Harry, who smiled back. Harry swung open his dormitory door, raced towards his broomcase, and pulled out his Firebolt. Harry cast a glance in his mirror before walking from the room, running his hand through his messy hair and wondering why Adrienne would have gone out to the field without him. 

*** * * * ***

"Robes on, now!" Alicia called, walking around the Gryffindor locker room, her scarlet Quidditch robes billowing behind her in a fashion that reminded everyone of Professor Snape. The door burst open and light flooded the dim room. Harry shut the door behind him, placed his Firebolt on a nearby bench, and proceeded to walk to his locker, adorned with the golden letters spelling 'Potter,' mumbling that he was sorry about being late. 

"Quit your whining, Potter, and get those robes on. We have to be out there any moment now," Alicia spat from across the room, her usual angelic face drawn up into a scowl. 

"You wouldn't by any chance know where Adrienne is, would you?" she asked, striding across the room. Harry looked up, forgetting that he was putting his arm through his robe. 

"No, she isn't here?" he asked slowly, dropping his arm. 

"Would I ask you if she was?" 

"Hermione said she wasn't in the dormitory this morning," he replied, reaching down to retrieve his robe. 

"What are we supposed to do then? We're a chaser short!" Alicia exclaimed, advancing on Harry with her fists balled at her sides. 

"Hold on there, Cap," Fred said, jumping up and grabbing her arm, "No need to beat our seeker." 

"You want me to run up to her room and check again?" Katie asked, standing up and drawing her robes around her in preparation to run for the castle. Alicia turned and opened her mouth, but a knock on the door interrupted her. 

"Gryffindor, time to take the field," called a voice from the other side. Alicia narrowed her eyes and reached for her broom. 

"Well, there went that option," Katie murmured, dropping her robes and looking around for her broom. Alicia turned to look at Harry again. 

"You get that snitch, Potter, and get it fast," she hissed and then pushed her way towards the door. 

"You mean we're playing a chaser short?" Colin called after her. 

"Gryffindor, you must take the field!" came the voice from the other side of the door. Alicia yanked it open with a furious pull and swung her foot through it, catching Madam Hooch in the shins. 

"Then get out of the doorway," Alicia shot and then disappeared from sight. 

*** * * * ***

Harry raised his arm to block the bright winter sun from his eyes and followed Alicia onto the snow-covered Quidditch field. The Ravenclaw team was all ready there, their seven members lined up before Harry, their blue robes rippling in the breeze. 

"Would you look at this?" Lee Jordan called from his usual chair next to Professor McGonagall. "Gryffindor is playing a player short!" Murmurs arose through the stands and everyone leaned forward in their seats to see the six Gryffindor players, lined before the Ravenclaws. 

Harry looked down the line of opponents, his eyes falling upon Cho, who was standing on the end, still the only girl on the team. She wore the captain's badge and had her shiny black hair pulled up into a tight bun on top her head, making her look like a miniature McGonagall, minus the spectacles. Harry stared at her for several seconds, wondering what was going through her mind. He hadn't spoken to her at all this year, nor had she made any attempt to speak to him. Harry had a funny feeling that deep down she blamed him for Cedric's death. 

"Chang, Spinnet, shake hands," Madam Hooch said, walking between the lines of scarlet and blue robes. Cho took a step forward and clasped Alicia's hand, and then as she stepped back to her line, her dark eyes flashed toward Harry, only for a second - long enough for Harry to realize that she was looking at him, but not long enough for Harry to guess why. 

"On my whistle, three, two, one . . ." 

"And they're off! Bell is the first to the quaffle," the game had started. Harry rose into the air and scanned the field. Blue and scarlet images flew past him, but he didn't register the golden sparkle of the Snitch. Harry flattened himself against his broom and flew down towards the Ravenclaw goal post. 

"And the score is 30 - 0 Ravenclaw," Lee called out. Boos rang through the crowd. 

"Well, what do you expect? They're playing a chaser short," he clarified. 

Harry flew around the goal posts and hovered atop them, looking for the snitch. Katie flew by him, intercepting a Ravenclaw throw and sped toward the Gryffindor goals. Harry flew after her. 

"Get that Snitch now, Potter!" Alicia hollered as he passed her. 

"70 - 20 and Ravenclaw is still in the lead. Well, now we know for sure that Chaser, Adrienne Miles, isn't just eye candy . . ." 

"Mr. Jordan," Professor McGonagall said warningly, turning to look at him, narrowing her eyes behind her spectacles. 

"She's the best damn scorer on the team this season. And look here folks, it's Spinnet, on a breakaway." 

Harry turned in the air to see Alicia barreling past him, gripping the red quaffle tightly in her hand. 

"She's gonna make it!" Lee called out. Moans erupted through the stands: A Ravenclaw beater had sent a bludger her way, knocking into her arm and causing her to drop the quaffle. Below her, a Ravenclaw chaser caught it and zoomed towards the goals. 

Harry turned his attention back to finding the snitch. He flew higher above the game and squinted in the sunlight. Across the field from him he could see Cho flying, her head flipping back and forth, looking desperately for the snitch. 

"The score is 110-50 Ravenclaw, those old birds are mopping the floor with the lions right now." 

A flash of gold to Harry's right caught his attention and he flew into a dive. Across the field, Cho did too. The snitch was hovering fifty feet above the ground in midfield. Two bludgers whizzed past him, one grazing the top of his head, moving his hair, the other catching the back of his robe. This didn't faze Harry, and he flattened himself closer to his broom and then, to the tumultuous applause that filled the stadium, pulled up from his dive, his right hand gripping the desperately fluttering snitch. Harry stole a glance at Cho, who pulled up from her dive and stopped next to him. 

"Congratulations Potter, you win again," she said in a hollow voice and then turned and flew away. 

"That's the way, Harry!" Fred yelled as he rammed into Harry's side and put him in a headlock, rubbing his hair in happiness. 

"Couldn't have done that any sooner, could you?" Alicia said as she flew towards them, massaging her right arm where the bludger had hit her. 

"Don't complain, Cap, we won didn't we?" George said as he flew towards them. 

"Yeah, a player short even!" Colin exclaimed. Alicia's face darkened at this. 

"We didn't need her anyway," she finally said and then flew towards the ground. 

*** * * * ***

Adrienne rolled over and slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes. An echoing of cheers were slowing pounding through the room. She shook her head. The dormitory was filled with the bright light of midday, causing her to squint slightly. Adrienne raised a hand to her head and slowly laid back down. She looked around her for a second, realizing she wasn't in her own bed, but she didn't care. 

"Oy, Miss America!" 

Adrienne's eyes fluttered back open. Someone was standing over her, but in the bright sunlight she couldn't see whom. 

"What d'ya want," she mumbled, raising a hand to block the sunlight. 

"Forget something?" The girl stepped back several steps and Adrienne made out Parvati's face, and then realized that next to her stood Lavender, both wearing evil grins. 

"What are you talking about?" Adrienne said, swinging her legs off Hermione's bed. 

"Oh, I don't know. . . broomsticks . . . flying balls . . . teams . . . points . . . Quidditch games," Lavender said slowly. Adrienne jumped up. 

"The Game!" she exclaimed. Adrienne raced across the room and grabbed her Firebolt off her bed. 

"Oh my goodness! I'm so late, oh my! Quick, what time is it?" she rambled, racing towards the door. 

"What time is it?" Lavender repeated, grinning evilly. 

"Funny you should ask," said Parvati, taking a step towards Adrienne. 

"I think it's about time for the first student to be removed from the Gryffindor House team in over fifty years," Lavender sneered. Adrienne whipped around. 

"For being late?" she spat. Parvati grinned. 

"For missing the game," she whispered. Adrienne's jaw dropped and her eyes flickered from Parvati to Lavender and then back to Parvati. 

"I didn't miss the game," Adrienne whispered in a deadly tone of voice. 

"They played without you," Lavender said, walking back to her bed and sitting down atop it. 

"I didn't miss the game," Adrienne repeated, her mind working furiously at what the voice had told her: '_I can make you do anything. I could make you miss your Quidditch game too. Would you like me to show you?' _

"They played a Chaser short," Parvati said, putting a hand on her hip. 

"I didn't miss the game," Adrienne exclaimed, tightening her grip on her broom. 

"Why don't you just leave your broom here then and go on out and see what'll happen," Lavender said, reaching for a bottle of nail polish on her bedside cabinet. 

"Go where?" Adrienne asked slowly as Parvati walked over to sit next to Lavender. 

"Out to the common room, of course," she said coldly, a sneer turning up the corners of her red lips. Adrienne stared at them for several seconds and then, slowly, walked back to her bed and dropped her Firebolt atop it. Then, still clad in her sweats, turned on her heel and marched out of the room. 

Adrienne strode through the hallway, her eyes following the rivets in the rich purple carpeting, watching the other girls' dormitories pass through the corner of her eyes.

"I didn't miss the game," she mumbled, shaking her head, "I didn't miss the game." However, deep down in her gut she knew she was dead wrong. 

The rumbling of voices grew louder and as she rounded the bend that led to the balcony, the common room came into view. The students were grouped together, gesticulating wildly in excitement, raising bottles Adrienne had never seen before to six students grouped in the middle of the room. Among them, Adrienne could make out a mop of messy black hair, flanked by two red heads that were emptying their bottles atop Harry. 

"I should really go look for Adrienne," Harry yelled, wiping the Butterbeer from his glasses and hoping desperately that Hermione and Ron would come rescue him, but they were so far at the edge of the crowd that they couldn't reach him. 

"Nah, she's probably doing something, stay here and celebrate. Look at Alicia, that's her twelfth, Butterbeer. I bet you she's either gonna pass out cold or toss it all up." 

Adrienne stopped at the top of the balcony, her eyes wide with astonishment. 

"And like I told them all, we didn't need her, we could win a player short any day!" Alicia exclaimed from her perch atop a table in the middle of the room. 

"How's your arm, Alicia?" someone called to her. Alicia shrugged. 

"Fine, bludgers don't really hurt that much," she said with a slight slur. 

"Hey, where is she?" another person called out. 

"Who, Adrienne? Don't know and don't care, we won though," Alicia called back, reaching for another bottle of drink next to her, throwing her empty one into a pile behind her. Adrienne thought she was acting much like Professor Glenn when he had had too much to drink. 

"See, this is what I think. This cup is ours already, because we are the best damned team in this whole school, and to hell with anyone who thinks otherwise," Alicia continued, giggling and raising the bottle to her mouth, tilting her head back with it. All of a sudden she stopped, her eyes resting upon Adrienne. Adrienne's eyes widened and she took a step backwards. 

"So now ya show up, eh? Wanna join in'll party now, do ya?" she called through a thick drawl, her blue eyes flashing. The common room fell deadly silent and everyone turned to look at Adrienne, who didn't move. 

"Well now, ya can't." Adrienne didn't say anything at all, but bit her lip and continued to look at Alicia. "Go on now, Yank, come back when ya can add to us something worthwhile. Can't duel, can't even show up properly to ya own Quidditch game," Alicia called to her. Adrienne let go of the balcony and turned on her heel and strode back to the dormitory, her stomps echoing along the hallway. 

"This is all your fault," she hissed under her breath. "When I get a hold of you, voice, I'll strangle you; I'll kill you, I swear!" 

_'What did I say? I told you I could make you do anything, Perfect. You belong to me, and when the time is right, you'll join me, or die.' _

"I most definitely will not!" 

_'You don't have a choice in the matter, child.' _

Adrienne stomped on, her fists clenched, her jaw set, an immense feeling rising inside of her that made her want to haul out and hit something. With one mighty push she rammed into the dormitory and raised an eyebrow at Lavender and Parvati, who were staring intently at the door, giggling madly. 

"Told you," Lavender said gleefully, a smug smile turning up the corner of her mouth. 

"Would we ever lie to you, Miles?" Parvati drawled. 

"Get out!" Adrienne hissed, taking a step towards them, fighting the mad desire to take all her anger out on them. Lavender smirked. 

"Oh dear me, Parvati, she's ordering us out!" Lavender whined, raising a hand to her mouth in mock-terror. 

"Whatever shall we do?" Parvati said slowly. 

_'Go on, child. You want to, don't you? Teach them a lesson.' _

"Really, get out now," Adrienne said, narrowing her eyes and taking another step towards the two, "or I'll make you." 

"Now listen here, wretch, you can't make us do anything," Lavender snapped. 

"We belong here more than you. At least we're good at magic. Look at you, barely any better than a squib. All you can do is duel, everything else is a disaster . . ." 

"Wait, Par," Lavender interrupted, "She can't even duel anymore, can she? So I suggest you, Yank, should be the one leaving. Go on, or _we'll _make _you_." 

Adrienne scowled. 

_'Do it!' _

"Oh really?" and with that Adrienne lunged forward, pulling back her right hand, straightening her fingers and tucking her thumb across the palm of her hand. She swung her arm out and caught Parvati under the neck. Parvati slumped to the ground instantly. 

"HELP!" Lavender screamed and the reached blindly for her wand as Adrienne walked over Parvati. 

"Are you going to leave now?" Adrienne asked slowly, treading on Parvati's wrist. Lavender looked at her with wide, fearful eyes. 

"You're crazy!" she muttered and then, her hand grabbing her crystal ball on her bedside table, raised it into the air. Adrienne's arm shot out, grabbing Lavender by the wrist, putting her thumb atop the carpal tunnel, and twisted. She grabbed the crystal ball out of her hand and swung it at her face, hitting Lavender in the temple, causing her to slump to the ground. 

_'Well done, child.' _

Adrienne's eyes widened in fear. 

_'How many things have I made you do now? The duel, the game, and now this. And you still think that you are in control?' _

"It was an accident," Adrienne whispered, looking at the two girls lying on the dormitory floor. 

_'An accident? Adrienne, there are no accidents, but instead opportunities. Look at that. Didn't it feel good to get out some of your anger? Didn't it feel good to get them back for hating you? Doesn't the feel of fresh blood on your hands, the warmth, the smell, the feel, doesn't it feel good?' _

Adrienne's eyes widened and she slowly looked down at her left hand. 

"Merlin!" she screamed, stumbling backwards, wiping her bloody hand on her top. 

_'The time is coming,'_ and with that the voice fell silent. Adrienne's horrified eyes flipped over the scene before her: Parvati was lying on the ground, her head lulled to the side, Lavender next to her, blood running down the left side of her face. 

"It came from that way!" 

"Who screamed?" 

The echo of footsteps filled Adrienne's ears and she turned just in time to see a group of students appear in the doorway. 

*** * * * * **

Adrienne shifted nervously in her chair, her head bowed slightly and her hands clasped painfully together. 

"Miss Potter, I'm extremely disappointed in you," Professor Dumbledore said slowly from behind his desk. Adrienne didn't look up but was all too aware of both his eyes and Professor McGonagall's on her. Adrienne inched to the left, trying to put some more distance between her and McGonagall, who was sitting on her right side and Adrienne didn't have to look at her to know that she was not wearing a pleased expression. 

"You're lucky they weren't hurt any worse," McGonagall snapped, standing up suddenly. 

"Two girls in the hospital wing? One with a fractured Atlas another with a fractured skull! You did that, Adrienne!" McGonagall exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips. 

"What happened?" Dumbledore asked, shooting a warning glance at McGonagall. Adrienne slowly looked up and stared at Dumbledore. He was sitting across her, his hands folded atop his desk, a serious expression on his face. 

"I asked them to leave," Adrienne said slowly, beginning to shake, "They wouldn't leave." 

"So you hit them?" McGonagall asked, incredulously. 

"I asked them to go, they wouldn't, I asked them," Adrienne said urgently, turning to stare at McGonagall. 

"Why did you want them to leave, Adrienne?" Dumbledore asked, staring intently at her. Adrienne turned back to look at him. 

"Because," she replied, not about to tell them she currently was harboring a maniac in her mind, whom she had a sneaking suspicion was Voldemort; how he could managed that, she didn't know though. 

"Did it have anything to do with you not being at the Quidditch game?" McGonagall asked, sitting back down next to her. Adrienne looked away. 

"I had a horrible headache and just laid down for a second, but I guess I forgot to wake up," she mumbled. Adrienne shut her eyes. 

"Why didn't you go to the hospital wing then?" Dumbledore asked her. 

"Madam Pomfrey couldn't help, trust me," Adrienne whispered, opening her eyes and fixating them on the old man sitting across from her. 

"She could have tried," he replied. Adrienne shook her head. 

"And you can try to raise the dead, but it won't work," she snapped. Dumbledore sighed and reached across his desk for a quill. 

"Fighting is serious business, Adrienne," Dumbledore began. Adrienne sighed. "I don't condone what you did, nor do I understand why. But I was not in the room, nor were there any witnesses. Thus, Adrienne, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, and not send you back to Salem; but if you do this again, you'll leave right away. Something happened between you, Parvati, and Lavender, and two of you ended up unconscious, and that cannot be ignored. Two-hundred points from Gryffindor . . ." 

"Wonderful," she groaned. McGonagall cleared her throat and Adrienne, rolling her eyes, turned her attention back to Professor Dumbledore. 

"Fighting is a childish act, Adrienne, and when you fail to act as an adult, you loose privileges," Dumbledore continued. Adrienne sat up slowly, her mind reeling at what Professor Dumbledore was getting at. 

"If you cannot act as an adult, you cannot attend adult functions; therefore, this year you may not attend the Valentine's Formal, or any Hogsmeade trips." At this Adrienne jumped up, a horrified expression on her face. 

"Whoa, Nellie! Hold on just one second there," she snapped, putting her hand on her hips and raising an eyebrow. "I'm going with Ron, you can't do that to him! He didn't do anything wrong, it was me. Why punish him?" 

Dumbledore sighed and looked at her, his light blue eyes surveying her slowly. 

"Adrienne, our actions affect others, not just ourselves, perhaps now you will remember that. Good day, Miss Potter," Professor Dumbledore said crisply. Adrienne's jaw dropped and she turned to look at Professor McGonagall, who was looking at her with a stern face. 

"Don't look at me," she said and then stood up. Adrienne turned back to Professor Dumbledore. 

"Is that all?" Adrienne asked with a sneer, not following McGonagall to the door. 

"I am writing a letter to Salem," Dumbledore began. 

"To who?" Adrienne interrupted. 

"To their Headmistress." 

"Not to Professor Bell! Write to Professors Glenn and Hartel, they take care of me," Adrienne begged, inwardly thinking that Professor Glenn would punish her a lot less than Professor Bell. 

"I'm writing to the Headmistress, Adrienne," Dumbledore said firmly. Adrienne made a face. 

"Now that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," she snapped, knowing that if Professor Bell was the one to punish her, she'd be scrubbing floors all summer. 

"You may go now, Miss Potter," Dumbledore said again and Adrienne thought he looked as if he were trying not to laugh. 

"Bite me," she said, and then, wrinkling her face as if she had just met a skunk, stomped from the room. 

*** * * * ***

"Adrienne, it's upside down," Hermione said, standing up and walking over to Adrienne's bed. Adrienne looked down at her shoe, blushed, and quickly turned it the right way to slip it on. 

"Oops," Adrienne muttered. Hermione flopped down next to her. 

"Is there a reason you're putting your shoes on now?" she asked, reaching up and twirling a strand of Adrienne's dark hair. 

"Huh?" Adrienne turned and looked at her, a confused expression engulfing her face. 

"It's Sunday night. Right now the only decent people in the common room are Harry, Ron, and that chess set. Do you really want to go down and watch Lavender and Parvati's seance?" Hermione asked, shaking her head slightly. Adrienne took a deep breath and then smiled. 

"For some reason I thought it was Monday. See, I was all ready to go down and transfigure McGonagall into a toad and to accidentally spill my rotting solution on Snape," Adrienne said with a sorrowful expression. Hermione giggled and sat up. 

"There she is," she said slowly, reaching for a hair tie on the bedside table. 

"Who?" Adrienne said, turning around and staring dumbly around the dormitory. 

"The silly girl who's been hiding somewhere in that mind of yours," Hermione said, a hairbrush and hair tie in hand. 

"Turn around, Adrienne," she ordered. Adrienne slowly turned and pushed her hair off her shoulders. 

"What happened with Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked, reaching up and beginning to brush Adrienne's hair. 

"What are you doing to me?" Adrienne asked doubtfully, trying to change the subject. 

"I'm going to braid your hair," Hermione replied. "So, what happened?" Adrienne bit her lip. She hadn't told Harry, Hermione, or Ron that she currently couldn't go to the dance. She had told them that she had lost points for getting in a cat-fight with Parvati and Lavender, to which Hermione replied, "Since when does cat-fights involve two hospitalizations?" She had told them that she had had a headache and thus missed the game. Then she spent all of Saturday night listening to Ron and Harry give her a play-by-play of the game, which Adrienne had a funny feeling were horrendously exaggerated. 

"Um, he told me that he was disappointed in me and all that tosh and that I needed to act more grownup and he was gonna write to Salem about me," Adrienne replied, having decided not to tell them about not being able to go to the formal, telling herself that somehow she'd worm her way back onto Dumbledore's good side, "Ouch!" 

"Sorry," Hermione mumbled. 

"Now I'm gonna have me a bald spot there, Hermi. I'll be 'Adrienne, the giant bald spot girl,'" Adrienne mumbled, "Some hairdresser you are." Hermione yanked on her braid slightly. 

"Ouch again!" 

"Oops, sorry, Adrienne, thousand apologies, it was an accident," Hermione said smugly, tying the braid's end. 

"Right, and I'm Samantha Mesich," Adrienne spat. 

"Who's Samantha Mesich?" 

"My imaginary friend from when I was five, I think. No, maybe I was six, or seven. Heck, I could have been twelve. Come to think of it, maybe Samantha Mesich was Jessica's imaginary friend," Adrienne said, wrinkling her face in thought, which looked like it was causing her great pain. 

"Who's Jessica?" Hermione asked, bewildered. Adrienne turned, her face contorted in a skeptical expression. 

"Jessica? She was at 5th Street with me. Or was it Jessica from Salem who had an imaginary friend?" Adrienne thought aloud. 

"No wonder you can't transfigure worth anything, your thought process is off the wall!" Hermione exclaimed. Adrienne fell back onto the bed. 

"Well, whatever may be, I can safely say that someone at one point had an imaginary friend. Whether that someone was Jessica and whether that imaginary friend was . . ." 

"Shut up, Adrienne!" 

Adrienne stopped talking and grinned. 

"You know you love me, Hermi," she whined. 

"Yeah, about as much as I love Snape," Hermione said slowly. Adrienne frowned. 

"Thanks for the support there." 

"Any time," Hermione said, standing up. She walked back to her bed. 

"Sirius sent Harry a letter today, you saw it, right?" Hermione said, looking up from her trunk. 

"Yup, he said that he wished he would have gotten to meet me but old Bumble 'n Snore . . ." 

"Adrienne, be nice," Hermione chided without looking up. 

"has him looking into that Golden Serpent business," Adrienne finished. 

"How much do you know about that serpent, Adrienne?" Hermione asked, pulling out a notebook. Adrienne's eyes widened. 

_'And the truth surfaces.' _The voice was back. 

"Not much," she replied, clenching her fists. Hermione looked up. 

"I'm going to the library, want to go with me?" she asked, grabbing her bag. Adrienne raised an eyebrow. 

"No, that's all right, Hermi, I have some stuff to do," Adrienne replied, indicating blindly behind her. Hermione walked toward her. 

"You've finished that Transfiguration paper, right?" she asked in a stern voice. 

"Of course!" Adrienne said, "You go. Maybe I'll stop by later." Hermione looked at her with a curious expression but then shrugged. 

"Fine, see you," and with that she walked out from the dormitory. 

_'That mudblood's pretty sharp, is she not?' _

Adrienne turned around and stared out the window with angry eyes. 

_'She'll figure it out, you watch, child.' _

"I've had it up to here with you," Adrienne snapped, raising her hand above her head, "And guess what, I'm not even that tall!" 

_'So, how is everything in the old lion house? How's everything with your brother?' _

"Fine," Adrienne said slowly. 

_'That's good, child, that's good. Keep on good terms with him, that way he won't expect anything.' _

*** * * * ***

"I really hate this class," Harry muttered as he and Ron trudged up the final set of stairs leading to the top of the North Tower. 

"What are we starting again?" Ron asked, stopping abruptly in an all-too-familiar circular room. 

"We're learning about the purpose of Divination, I think; but I really wasn't paying much attention when she announced it, so . . ." Harry mumbled. A silver ladder began to slowly descend from the top of the ceiling. 

As Harry stuck his head through the trapdoor, the waft of incense caught him and he gagged, looking around, blurry eyed for a seat next to a window. There was none. From the corner, Professor Trelawney emerged, her gauzy white robes flowing behind her. 

"Sit down, my children. Sit down," she said in her usual drafty whisper. Harry reluctantly lowered himself into a fluffy chair next to Ron. Several chairs down from them, Parvati and Lavender sat rapt with attention, wearing hypnotized faces. Professor Trelawney sat down in her usual green chair. 

"The Art of Divination is possibly the oldest branch of magic ever in existence," she began, leaning back and raising a teacup to her mouth in a fashion that reminded Harry very much of Aunt Petunia. 

"Unfortunately for us, very few predictions were ever recorded," she continued. Harry glanced at Ron who had already blocked Trelawney out and was seeing how far back he could bend his fingers. 

"Divination is used rarely in everyday magical life, and true Seers are only consulted upon the most dire of circumstances." 

"I wonder why," Ron muttered to Harry, who smirked in response. 

"In the 1940s, much of the Muggle world was caught up in World War Two. Many children at Hogwarts who were of Muggle parentage lost loved ones during that time. However, the Muggles were not alone during the battle. While the Muggles were fighting a man named Hitler, we were trying our best to defend ourselves against the dark wizard, Grindelwald. You have all heard this before, I am correct?" The class, except for Lavender and Parvati, who were sitting reverently, nodded their heads dumbly. 

"And we all know that our own Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was the one who defeated Grindelwald?" 

"Um huh." "Yup. "Correct." Bland answers rang through the room. Professor Trelawney leaned forward slightly. 

"But do you know why he was the one?" she asked slowly, peering over her thick spectacles, her dull eyes landing upon Harry, who shifted uncomfortably and tried to look extremely interested. 

"Everything in the world exists in a delicate balance. There cannot be more magic in the world than there is the mundanity of Muggle life. There cannot be more evil than there is good. There cannot be a darkness without a light; for, if we had no evil, no darkness, then how would we realize the good, the light?" 

Harry leaned forward in his chair and stared at Professor Trelawney. 

"When something evil or good enters the world, at some point the power must be balanced," she continued. 

"But that means then that we'd never be able to rid the world of evil. Isn't that what the aurors are there for, to rid the world of the dark wizards?" Dean Thomas interrupted. 

"It's a Catch 22," a new voice floated through the room and Hermione appeared in the trapdoor. 

"Sorry to interrupt you, Professor, but I have a note from Professor Vector," Hermione said quickly, not at all attempting to hide her disgust at being back in the Divination classroom. Professor Trelawney stood up and sashayed over to Hermione, whisking the slip of parchment straight out of her hand. She read it quickly, holding it very close to her face. Then she nodded. 

"Tell him I will speak to him personally during the hour of lunch," she said. Then, upon slipping the note down the front of her robe, she stared at Hermione, almost as seeing her in a new light. 

"You are aware of the process of balance, Miss Granger, is it?" she asked slowly, lowering her spectacles down the bridge of her nose. 

"Cumolo," Hermione answered, her eyes flickering to Harry who was staring at her intently. 

"Correct, Miss Granger, take a seat, please; I'll speak to Professor Vector about your not returning to class today," she said airily, then she turned and moved back to her seat. Hermione raised an eyebrow but walked through the dark and cluttered room and took a seat at Harry's feet. 

"Cumolo," Professor Trelawney began, "to bring to perfection. Magic, my dears, is in you. It flows through your veins; it is present in your speech; it is in your nerves, in all you do. Magic is part of you, it always has been, and for all of you, it always will. There are limits on our magic though; there are only certain things you can do, certain spells you can make, certain laws of nature you can break. Magic can kill, what is the curse?" The entire class raised their hands. 

"Mr. Thomas?" 

"Avada Kedavra," Dean answered, intrigued by this new conversation, along with everyone else in the class. They had never in a million years expected this type of lesson. 

"Yes, five points to Gryffindor, Mr. Thomas. With the killing curse, you can kill whomever you want; there is no limit. But none of our spells can raise the dead; no spell can block that curse. It is balanced, you see." 

"But how can it be balanced. Since when is being able to kill and not being able to prevent a death or raise the dead balanced?" Harry asked quickly. Professor Trelawney stared at him and then looked away. 

"What balances it?" she asked slowly, looking around the room. Not one person raised his hand. 

"Why is the Avada Kedavra curse balanced?" Still, not even Hermione raised her hand. 

"What is possible with the Avada Kedavra curse?" Professor Trelawney asked, somewhat exasperatedly. Hermione shifted and leaned back against Harry's legs, then, reached down with her left hand and held on tightly to his ankle. Only then did she finally raise her right hand into the air. 

"Miss Granger?" Professor Trelawney asked, smiling slightly, 'Perhaps she's not as mundane as I thought.' 

"You don't have to die if you are cursed by Avada Kedavra," Hermione said in a timid voice. 

"You don't?" Professor Trelawney prompted. Hermione shook her head slightly. 

"No. If we are all wizards, then like you said, magic is part of us, but not just the magic we practice. There are spells that don't exist in the magic we learn. There are spells that change the very existence of time; there are spells that change the actions of fate, but they don't exist like our spells do today. It's called the art of Perfection or traditionally, Acabado, meaning perfect, unflawed. It doesn't refer to people but instead to their magical status. Thousands of years ago, before our form of magic even existed, the wizards were known as Perfects, or if you want to get technical, Acabadians - " 

"Miss Granger, you're getting off the topic," interrupted Professor Trelawney. 

"Oh, right," Hermione said, blushing slightly, "There was no limit to what they could do. They could control anything: the moon, the stars, the lives of others, people's deaths, they could even resurrect the dead." 

"Cool!" Ron whispered. 

"They didn't do all that though; it requires power, extreme power. Like Professor Trelawney said, everything is balanced. If you bring the dead to life, one life must be sacrificed. If you save another's life against certain death, then you must forfeit someone else's life," Hermione explained. 

"I still don't get how the Avada Kedavra curse is balanced though," Neville said. Harry on the other hand was beginning to see exactly where Hermione was going. "We need our wands to do magic. Sure we can do some hexes and jinxes without them, but it's a rarity to do real magic without wands. But during times of extreme need, when we block out our world and are focusing our entire mind and heart on something, then things can happen, then we can draw from our Perfect ancestry. If someone is insulting your family, you could end up inflating them." 

Ron tried to catch Harry's eye but he was staring transfixed at Hermione. 

"If you fall from a window and are about to be flattened upon the ground, you might bounce." 

Neville grinned at this and whispered to Dean: 

"Did you hear that, I can do wandless magic!" 

"If your child is about to be murdered, you could sacrifice your life, to save him," Hermione said hesitantly. "It is in all of us, but it only surfaces under certain circumstances. That is what balances our magical art: our Perfect ancestry, the fact that at one point, people did magic perfectly." 

"Precisely. Ten points to Gryffindor," Professor Trelawney whispered. 

"Wait, what do you mean they did it perfectly?" Lavender asked, drawing herself from her usual quiet and meditating demeanor and posture. 

Hermione glanced at Professor Trelawney, who leaned back in her puffy chair and nodded her head for her to continue. 

"I don't know much about them, but I do know that when our kind of wizards began referring to them as Perfects, they picked that word in reference to the idea that if you were willing to sacrifice different items to maintain balance, you could theoretically achieve anything you wanted. Thus there was no limit to what you could achieve, hence there was a perfection to the art. It couldn't be improved through research or anything like that," Hermione said, although Harry noticed she didn't look as sure as herself as usual. 

"Miss Brown, very few people study the Acabadian Arts, and those who do are usually professors at institutions of higher learning or research centers. If you really want to know more about the Perfects, you could check the library, we have a few books on the subject. Now, back to Dean's question, if we can't get rid of evil, then why do we have aurors?" No one answered and Professor Trelawney sighed her disappointment. 

"Because the ideas of evil, the beliefs, the emotional convictions that the dark wizards hold are alone powerful enough to balance the lighter arts. The dark arts are inherently more powerful. That is why it is so easy for a wizard to go from the light arts to the dark arts, but if one is to go from the dark to the light again, it is more difficult. If we let the dark arts practice, it puts the world out of balance. But, if we only let the beliefs exist, the concepts, hidden away in books in evil tombs and chambers, then everything is fine and Cumolo is met. That is why we have aurors, because we can never destroy the beliefs, but we can limit the expression of them. 

"Why was Dumbledore the one to defeat Grindelwald? Well, we know that Dumbledore was the more powerful wizard of the two. How do we know that?" 

"The light wizard must be more powerful than the dark if they are to win because the dark arts are more powerful in and of themselves," Hermione answered. 

"Precisely. When a dark wizard that powerful is born into the world, one or a group of wizards of equal strength are born also. Dumbldedore was alone powerful enough to defeat Grindelwald. Just like the 16th century aurors, Rezmy Ikes and Celma Ceratano, were alone strong enough to defeat the dark wizard, Nycenx. Thus, when Cumolo does not exist, light magic is put into the world to balance it." Professor Trelawney was now staring at Harry intently. 

"Voldemort was born into our world, and somewhere, someone or someones exist with the power to stop him. But that power only lies in the chosen people. That was the main purpose of divination, to predict who these people would be. There were prophecies about the three light founders of Hogwarts, who managed to keep the dark arts from being taught for almost a century. There were prophecies about Rezmy Ikes and Celma Ceratano. There were prophecies about Professor Dumbledore. That is what divination is most important for. Cumolo is always in a delicate balance; the quest for a perfect balance will never be met, but divination can predict the less sturdy times of our endeavor." 

The class sat rapt with silence, not at all believing they had had such a lesson. 

"That, my students, is why I studied Divination, in hopes of predicting the waning and waxing of Cumolo. That is what I hope some of you will be able to do, for if we do not know when a threat will be posed, then how will we be able to hold it back until the chosen light wizard arrives?" 


	27. The Price of Perfection

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 27: The Price of Perfection**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

"Cesgiuds?" Draco Malfoy drawled, his pale face drawn into an enormous grimace, his gray eyes glaring dangerously at the small animal before him.   
  
"Cesguids," Hagrid replied, staring down at the several small creatures at his feet, a loving gleam in his eye.   
  
"They look like squid," Hermione whispered to Harry. 

The early morning February sun was beating down upon the students, who, in their winter cloaks were deeply regretting dressing so warmly.   
  
"No, they look like jelly-fish," Harry clarified, reaching up and fanning himself with his hand. "Isn't it supposed to be winter?" 

The ground was completely void of snow, and instead, the dull brown of early spring had taken over the land, making everything look as dead as could be.   
  
"It's a conspiracy," Adrienne muttered, shaking her head at the brown landscape, then turned her attention back to the clear, rubbery, and slimly creature at Hagrids feet.   
  
"I don't know where you two are getting Jelly-fish and Squids from. There's only one thing that Cesguid, or whatever it is, could be, and that's a nightmare," she muttered.   
  
"These Cesguids don't have any surprises attached to them, like those Blast-Ended Skrewts, do they?" Draco asked slowly, and Harry was pleased to hear a twinge of fear in his voice. 

Hagrid looked down at one of the Cesguids, which looked like a long, clear cucumber with red, thorn covered tentacles. The one he was staring at had began to climb his legs, causing him to wince every time a thorned tentacle wrapped itself around his trousers.   
  
"Nah, harmless as could be. Great pets for lil' ones," Hagrid chuckled.   
  
"Yeah, if you want to kill those lil' ones and leave no evidence," Adrienne whispered to Ron. "I swear, darling, Junior was here just a minute ago, I left him right here with the Cesguid to watch him. What about that Cesguid? Looks like there's something in it's stomach? Eh, it probably just ate the footstool again."   
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and softly hit her arm, "Pay attention."   
  
"They eat squirrels," Hagrid said, reaching down and picking up a box next to him. From the box he withdrew a large cage of chattering squirrels. "We'll feed the Cesguids, and then you'll go to the library to work on your report. You'll look up exactly what Cesguids are, their family, their native home, and the like. It'll be due next week."   


  
* * *   


  
"You sure you don't want to sneak out?" Ron asked as Adrienne walked them towards the portrait hole.   
  
"Ron, she's in enough trouble all ready!" Hermione hissed, turning around. "There'll be plenty of time to go to Hogsmeade next year, Adrienne."   
  
Adrienne made a face and then nodded, "She's right, I have to get back on Bumble 'n Snore's most favorite list again," she replied, shaking her head in disgust.   
  
"I'm not sure calling him Bumble 'n Snore will make him welcome you back with open arms," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.   
  
Adrienne raised an eyebrow. "When I'm through being angry at being punished, I'll call him by his name again," Adrienne replied matter-of-factly.   
  
"Angry at being punished? You put two girls in the hospital wing. You're lucky he didn't expel you," Hermione said shortly.   
  
"It was an accident," Adrienne shot.   
  
"Oh right, Adrienne, you just accidentally hit Parvati and accidentally picked up a crystal ball and then accidentally smashed it into Lavender's head," Hermione said acidly.   
  
"It wasn't my fault!" Adrienne said, taking a step closer to her.   
  
"Wait a second, hold on you two," Harry started, stepping between them.   
  
Both Adrienne and Hermione pushed him out of the way.   
  
"Then whose fault was it?" Hermione asked.   
  
Adrienne stared at her for a second and then took a step backwards, shaking her head.   
  
"If you three are going to go, you'd better go now. You'll wanna be back to watch the dueling tournament tonight," she said calmly. Hermione stared at her for several seconds, her face twisted in an expression that Adrienne couldn't read.   
  
"See you around four?" Harry asked.   
  
Adrienne nodded and watched Ron and Harry walk out of the portrait hole. Hermione didn't move, she just stood there looking at her.   
  
"You really need to talk to someone. There are people who can help you," Hermione began, staring into Adrienne's eyes.  
  
Adrienne raised an eyebrow. "There's nothing wrong with me," she replied.   
  
"I'm not the only horrible liar around here, Adrienne," Hermione said slowly. "I'm picking up some hair clips for the dance, would you like me to get you some?"   
  
"I don't need anything else at this point," she mumbled, shaking her head, and then she turned and headed for the staircase.   
  
"Adrienne?"   
  
Adrienne turned around. Hermione was standing by the portrait hole, a hand on her hip, the other fidgeting with her wand.   
  
"What?"   
  
Hermione looked at her for a moment and then looked away. "Never mind. See you around four," she answered, and then disappeared through the portrait hole.   


  
* * *   


  
"Three Butterbeers," Ron said, setting the glasses unto the table in the back of the Three Broomsticks.   
  
"Yum," Harry sighed, reaching for his. He took a deep drink and then set the glass down.   
  
"I don't see how Alicia got smashed off these," Ron said through a mouth of foam.   
  
"Well, what do you expect, she had at least twelve," Hermione replied, moving her chair closer to the table.   
  
"Did you find out anything about that Golden Serpent?" Harry asked. Hermione looked up, her eyes widening.   
  
"Oh, I can't believe I forgot; I did, look!" She rummaged in her bag and then pulled out a green notebook. Hermione set the notebook onto the table and opened it up to a page filled with notes.   
  
"That book you found, Harry, _The Introduction of Wands _or whatever it was," Hermione began, slightly absentminded in her excitement.   
  
"What about it?" Harry asked, reaching again for his glass.   
  
"I asked Madam Pince about it, something about it seemed off. I don't know, just something put me wrong. You know what she said? That book had been written by none other than your father, Sirius, Professor Lupin, and Wormtail," Hermione continued.   
  
"They were published?" Harry asked, setting down his glass. "No, that book was too old, it can't be."   
  
"It was one of their jokes, Harry. Madam Pince told me all about it. It seems Professor Snape had to do a paper on the fall of the Acabadian Arts, so they made a fake source for him, and placed it in the library. According to Madam Pince, Snape used it and failed his paper. She thought she had thrown it out, but I guess she must have forgotten to do that."   
  
"So, what are you saying?" Ron asked. "The Golden Serpent has nothing to do with those Perfect wizards?"   
  
"Most of the stuff in that article was either made up or backwards. According to my research, the Golden Serpent is a dark talisman, an anti-Perfect creation."   
  
"What kind of name is anti-Perfect?" Ron interrupted. "I mean, couldn't they have came up with anything better?"   
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's just like us calling the Acabadians, Perfects, we call their counterparts anti-Perfects. It's shorter. That's just English's use of _un_, _anti_, and _dis_ prefixes," Hermione said quickly, leaving Ron with a confused expression, having never before studied the English language.   
  
"Wait, so what does it do?" Harry asked, staring at Hermione through the dim lighting of the bar.   
  
"Well, it turns out, there were only several Perfects left at the time Hogwarts was founded, and Slytherin was one of them. Slytherin, knowing that soon the Perfect Art would become extinct, decided to place his powers into a talisman, knowing that one day another Perfect was bound to be born. Thus, when he died, his powers wouldn't be lost."   
  
"Wait, why would it matter if another Perfect be born?" Harry asked, pulling Hermione's notebook towards him.   
  
"The spell he used to transfer his power is an Acabadian spell, and the counter-spell can only be performed with Acabadian magic. Slytherin designed it so that once a Perfect touched it, the spell would begin."   
  
"What?" snapped Ron.   
  
Hermione signed. "Would you pay attention? Slytherin put his powers into a necklace, and once a Perfect touches the necklace, the powers are released," Hermione explained.   
  
"But who gets them?" Harry asked, reading over Hermione's notes.   
  
"Now that's the stinger. Get this, only Slytherin's heir can receive the powers," Hermione whispered.   
  
Harry looked up quickly. "You mean . . ."   
  
"Harry, don't say it!" Ron said, raising his hands to his ears.   
  
"But that's Voldemort," Harry continued, ignoring Ron.   
  
"What happens to the Perfect though?" Ron asked, lowering his hands once Harry had stopped talking. Hermione's face grew grim.   
  
"But a Perfect wouldn't help You-Know-Who," Ron continued.   
  
"But what if he doesn't know what he's doing?" Harry said. "He could do it by mistake."   
  
"That's the idea," Hermione answered, reaching for her Butterbeer.   
  
"Or, if he read that book your dad wrote, he could think he's getting his own powers and unintentionally help You-Know-Who," Ron said thoughtfully.   
  
"So, who is this Perfect?" Harry asked, slowly, looking up from the notebook.   
  
Hermione shrugged. "I have no idea."   


  
* * *   


  
Adrienne stood silently in the empty common room. Very slowly she walked over to a chair by the fireplace, drawing herself into a ball upon the seat cushion, staring absentmindedly into the flame. Behind her she could hear the patter of first and second year feet, running towards the portrait hole, most likely with intents of enjoying the hospitable weather.   
  
Adrienne took a deep breath and sighed. Parvati and Lavender had been released from the hospital wing Friday night, having made a full recovery, and also having made a pledge to ignore Adrienne completely, which Adrienne was convinced they'd break in a matter of days.   
  
"I want to go to the dance," she moaned, sitting up and drawing her legs to her chest. She leaned her chin atop her knees. "How do I get myself into these messes?"   
  
To Adrienne's immense relief, no one responded, and she smiled. She stood up and walked over to the window, letting her eyes fall over the groups of students playing outside.   
  
"If you cannot act as an adult, then you cannot attend adult functions," she mimicked, shaking her head disgustedly. "How come I can't just scrub the floors!"   
  
Adrienne stomped her foot and turned around, glaring about the room.   
  
"If I were at Salem, I'd be spending all my free time scrubbing the floors." Adrienne scowled, and then, very slowly, smiled.   


  
* * *   


  
"Adrienne, the Headmaster did not say that you could substitute your punishment with physical labor," Professor McGonagall said from behind her desk.  
  
Adrienne cocked her head to the side and frowned.   
  
"I'm not asking to substitute that for everything, just the dance. You can keep me from Hogsmeade until I'm finished here for all I care. I just _have _to go to this dance," she said in a pleading tone. McGonagall stood up and crossed her arms, shaking her head slightly.   
  
"I don't know, Adrienne," she began.   
  
"I swear, I'll help Filch clean for the rest of the year. I know perfectly well how to scrub floors and windows. I know how to dust and wax. Why, I even know how to paint without dripping on the ground - that has to be some kind of point getter," Adrienne whined. "Please, Professor?"   
  
Professor McGonagall stared at Adrienne for several moments, her dark eyes narrowed behind her spectacles, her mouth pursed.   
  
"Professor, I've all ready been removed from the Quidditch team for missing the game, can't I have just one more exciting event this year" Adrienne begged.   
  
Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows in surprise.   
  
"Have you? When did this occur?" she asked quickly.   
  
"Alicia decided; she's replaced me with Dean Thomas, told me last night she did," Adrienne said dully. "Now about this dance, please, please, please, Professor," Adrienne whined, putting her elbows onto McGonagall's desk and propping up her head.   
  
Professor McGonagall just shook her head in reply. Adrienne sighed and then heaved herself out of her chair.   
  
"Well, it was worth a try," she muttered. "Thanks for listening to me."   
  
Adrienne turned and walked towards the doorway, but stopped with her hand on the doorknob.   
  
"Professor?" she asked, turning around.   
  
"Yes, Miss Potter?" McGonagall replied, asking herself what Adrienne could possibly want now.   
  
"Am I passing your course?" Adrienne asked, a hint of apprehension in her voice.   
  
McGonagall looked at her and nodded.   
  
"Yes you are, Adrienne."   
  
"By how much?"   
  
McGonagall raised an eyebrow and Adrienne sighed.   
  
"It would do good to actually transfigure something correctly before the year ends, is that what you mean?" Adrienne asked.   
  
"Yes, Adrienne, I would recommend you achieve that goal, and soon," McGonagall replied.   
  
"I couldn't clean your study and classroom for the rest of the year in exchange for a passing grade, could I?" Adrienne asked hopefully, a silly grin engulfing her face.   
  
"I take it you are quite used to washing the floors?" McGonagall asked.   
  
"Well, I have had practice."   
  
McGonagall stood up and strode over to the door, stopping next to Adrienne. Adrienne looked up at her.   
  
"I will speak with the Headmaster, and you, you will go practice your Transfiguration. And if you transfigure anyone into a newt, you will spend all of your free time washing floors until you leave here," McGonagall said tersely, while opening the door.   
  
Adrienne walked by her and patted her back reassuringly.   
  
"Don't worry, Professor, it was only _you_ I turned into a newt. Usually I turn people into toads."   


  
* * *   


  
"So, Voldemort. . ."   
  
"Ugh!" Ron moaned, lowering his head to the table.  
  
"wants the Golden Serpent and the Perfect because then he'll be basically unstoppable?" Harry asked.   
  
Hermione nodded.   
  
"But wouldn't the Perfect be able to stop him?" Harry continued, pushing his empty Butterbeer glass to the side.   
  
Hermione shifted in her chair and then put her elbows on the table.   
  
"That's what I'm not sure about. I didn't have much time to research the Acabadian Arts at all. You would assume, wouldn't you, that if someone with that kind of magical abilities exists, that You-Know-Who would be worried," Hermione said thoughtfully, "A Perfect could pose quite a threat to him, I'd imagine."   
  
"Didn't Adrienne know something about those Perfects? We could ask her," Ron suggested.   


  
* * *   


  
Adrienne lay sprawled out on the common room floor, her feet raised in the air, her head propped up on one arm, her other arm twirling her wand aimlessly. Before her was a teacup.   
  
"A teacup to a mouse?" she asked slowly, shaking her head skeptically.   
  
"All you have to do is believe you can do it. That's all," she whispered reassuringly. Adrienne frowned and tightened her grip on her wand. Then, raising an eyebrow, shut her eyes.   
  
"A teacup to a mouse. A teacup to a mouse. A teacup to a mouse," she muttered, picturing the floral patterned teacup in her mind. Adrienne tightened her grip on her wand and then flicked her wrist.   
  
_'Good morning, child.' _  
  
Adrienne flinched and snapped her eyes open.   
  
"Oh dear," she muttered, her horrified eyes roving around the room. In front of her, at least twenty mice were now filing from the teacup, taking off in every direction, chattering and squeaking uncontrollably.   
  
"Wait!" Adrienne yelled, jumping up and running toward the nearest group, her arms flailing.   
  
"No! Nice mice! Nice mice, come on, back in the teacup. Please?" she begged, waving her arms at the mice in a desperate attempt to return them to the teacup.   
  
_'Such poor transfiguration skills, especially for a Perfect."' _  
  
"Quit it," Adrienne snapped.   
  
She looked wildly around the room as little white mice ran under the chairs, under tables, and up the staircase.   
  
"Now what do I do? I've given the house a rodent infestation!" she sighed. "How come Hermi isn't here? She could fix this in a snap."   
  
Adrienne took one last look around the room and then collapsed into a chair.   
  
_'You could transfigure a cat,' _the cold voice suggested. Adrienne sat up bolt in her chair.   
  
"Crookshanks!" She launched from her seat and sped up the staircase, through the hallway, and kicked open her dormitory door.   
  
"Here kitty, kitty, kitty," Adrienne whispered, staring around the room. Crookshanks lifted his huge head off Hermione's pillow and stared at Adrienne with his large yellow eyes.   
  
"Good kitty. Nice kitty," Adrienne pleaded, and then lunged toward the bed, grabbing the cat around its large middle and hauling it toward the door.   
  
"Umf, kitty needs to go on a diet, doesn't he?" she muttered as she staggered down the stairs. Adrienne walked towards the teacup and put Crookshanks onto the ground beside it. She put her hands on her hips and stared expectantly at him.   
  
"Well, you're a cat, so go chase the mice," she instructed. Crookshanks looked up at her and then flopped down on the ground. "No! I didn't say lay down, I said run the mice down! Wouldn't you sleep better on a full belly?" Adrienne exclaimed. Crookshanks stared at her for a moment and then lazily shut his eyes.   
  
"I never did like you, you - you big dumb fur cushion," Adrienne snapped.   
  
_'You could use the Imperious curse,'_ the voice suggested in a drawling tone that made Adrienne shiver and narrow her eyes.   
  
"I am not using the Imperious curse, you nitwit," she spat.   
  
_ 'You wouldn't get in trouble for using it on a cat. Plus, who's getting hurt? Only the mice are, and then you wouldn't be in trouble for setting a group of rodents all over Gryffindor tower,'_ the voice reasoned, echoing slightly in her head.   
  
Adrienne slowly sat down in a nearby chair, shaking her head.   
  
_'Just raise your wand, child, and say the words. No one gets hurt.' _  
  
Adrienne stared down at her right hand, at the mahogany wand gripped tightly in it, and then slowly, while still shaking her head, pointed it at the cat.   


  
* * *   


  
"It's four. I bet Adrienne's still in the common room," Ron said as he, Harry, and Hermione walked across the grounds.   
  
"I wonder what she did all day," Harry mused aloud. Ron shrugged his shoulders and then smiled suddenly.   
  
"I wonder if she missed me?" he breathed.   
  
Harry and Hermione snickered but said nothing. They walked in silence for several minutes, content just to look at the grounds, wondering when spring would set it.  
  
"What's that?" Hermione exclaimed as they neared the castle.   
  
Harry ripped his eyes away from the lake, where Fred and George were wrestling the squid.   
  
"What's what?" he asked, looking around.   
  
"That, up ahead," Hermione said, pointing to a patch of white on the brown grass. The three sped up their pace.   
  
"Oh sick!" Hermione whispered, raising a hand to her mouth.   
  
"Ugh," Ron groaned.   
  
"They're mice," Harry said, bending down to get a closer look, "and they're all dead." He shook his head and stood up.   
  
"Well, I don't know about Adrienne, but Mrs. Norris sure has been busy today," Hermione whispered, horrified.   


  
* * *   


  
"Adrienne?"   
  
Adrienne turned around in her chair expectantly, but her face fell as she saw who had called her. Professor McGonagall walked through the portrait hole, holding her robes around her in an imperial fashion.   
  
"Yes, Professor?" Adrienne said, hastily, quickly reaching back and pulling her hair into a sloppy ponytail.   
  
"I spoke to the Headmaster, and he is willing to allow you to attend the formal, provided that you stick to your agreement regarding assisting Filch," Professor McGonagall said in a bland tone, keeping her face completely impassive, thus not allowing Adrienne to decide if she was pleased or disappointed by Dumbledore's decision. Adrienne broke into a huge smile and stood up.   
  
"Oh, thank you, Professor!" she exclaimed, running toward her Professor.   
  
Professor McGonagall took a step backwards to steady herself as Adrienne embraced her in a very unexpected hug, wrapping her arms quite tightly around McGonagall's shoulders.   
  
"Yes, well . . ." she said uncomfortably, stepping backwards, "you start tomorrow. Report to Mr. Filch's office at eight in the morning."   
  
Adrienne's smile fell, but she nodded. Professor McGonagall turned around and walked towards the portrait hole, which flung open just as she reached it.   
  
"Oops, sorry Professor," Hermione exclaimed as she quickly sidestepped her to avoid a collision.   
  
"It's quite all right, Miss Granger," McGonagall replied, and then, smiling slightly at the two boys who subsequently entered, hurried through the portrait hole and out of sight.   
  
"So, how was Hogsmeade?" Adrienne asked, walking towards them.   
  
"'Bout the same as usual," Ron replied.   
  
Adrienne raised her eyebrows. "That's real great to know, as I've not been there yet," she said edgily.   
  
"We spent the entire time at the Three Broomsticks," Harry answered, walking over towards their usual table. "We brought you a bottle." He held out a dark colored bottle that Adrienne hadn't seen him carry in. She smiled and took it.   
  
"Gee, thanks," she said with a nod. "So, what did you do the entire time there?"  
  
"I was telling them what I found out about the Golden Serpent -" Hermione started, but was interrupted by the loud crash that filled the room as Adrienne dropped her bottle, splashing her robes and the floor with Butterbeer and glass.   
  
"Now I needed that just about as much as I needed a hole in my head," she muttered, reaching for her wand to clean it up.   
  
"WAIT!" Harry and Ron called out in unison, jumping forward and making blind reaches for her outstretched arm. Adrienne drew her arm back quickly and glared at them.   
  
"Can't we at least once have enough faith in my magical abilities as to let me clean up my own mess?" Adrienne snapped, narrowing her eyes.   
  
"No!" the three answered in unison. Hermione drew her wand and with a wave, the Butterbeer and glass had disappeared.   
  
"There's no use crying over spilt milk. Ever hear that, Yank?" came a voice from behind Adrienne. Adrienne whipped around and offered Parvati and Lavender a sarcastic smile.   
  
"Well, with you, there's tons to cry about over spilt anything," Lavender said in a cold voice.   
  
"I'll give ya'll something to cry about . . ." Adrienne began, narrowing her eyes. Parvati laughed.   
  
"I dare you. Come on, knock me again," she drawled, jutting out her olive face.   
  
"Professor McGonagall told us that you'd be sent back to Salem if you got in another fight," Lavender said, "So, come on, let us have it."   
  
Adrienne stared at them and shrugged off the hand Harry had placed on her shoulder.   
  
"Shove off," Adrienne spat at them and then turned around to face her friends.   
  
"What exactly did they do to you?" Hermione asked as they took their chairs.   
  
"Stuff."   
  
Hermione stared at her, but didn't ask anything else.   
  
"What do you know about Perfects?" Ron asked, pulling his chair closer to Adrienne. Adrienne sighed and leaned back in her chair.   
  
"Not much. I know they can do magic without their wands, and that's about all," she replied, beginning to fidget with her wand. Ron sighed and shot a glance at Harry, who had a disappointed look on his face.   
  
"Well, as much as I hate to admit it, I guess there's only one thing left to do," Ron started, frowning deeply, lines etched momentarily into his face, showing that he was struggling greatly with what he was about to say, "I guess we'll have to pay a visit to the library again."   
  
"Why?" Adrienne asked, looking around at her three friends. "Why does it even matter about the Perfects?"   
  
"Because, Adrienne, like I already explained . . . wait, you weren't there," Hermione finished. Adrienne rolled her eyes.   
  
"What did you explain?"   
  
"That Golden Serpent that the Ministry is looking for, it's a dark talisman. That book Harry found on it was wrong, completely and utterly wrong."   
  
Adrienne raised her eyebrow and smiled slightly, thinking that perhaps she had been all worked up over nothing.   
  
"Ok, so, what does it do?"   


  
* * *   


  
The next day Adrienne hurried out of bed, threw on her most worn school robes, wrote a hurried note to Hermione, and ran out of the tower. The halls were void of students, most sleeping in after the excitement of the duel. Hufflepuff had pulled off an unbelievable victory over Slytherin, which included one duel that lasted an hour and a half, mainly due to the fact that Slytherin was competing with a substitute who only used one curse the entire time.   
  
"You the Miles girl?" came a croaky voice.   
  
Adrienne jumped and looked around. She had reached Filch's office without even realizing it. In an open doorway several feet away from her stood Argus Filch, wearing old gray robes that were tinged with a greenish outline, which looked quite unmistakably like mold.   
  
"Yup," she replied, trying hard not to wrinkle her nose.   
  
It seemed that with being the sole caretaker of such a large castle, Filch didn't find the time, or just didn't care to make the time, to shower regularly. On the ground, Mrs. Norris was weaving around his ankles, glaring up at Adrienne with her cruel and calculating yellow eyes.   
  
"Kids these days are nothing but trouble makers. All they do is fight, and push, and play jokes, and destroy, and fight, and … and … fight some more. Nothing but no good, disrespectful, completely unreliable, dirty, lying, trouble makers. All kids should be hung on account of plotting to be trouble makers," Filch spat.   
  
Adrienne bit her lip, threw a horrified glance around her, and began to wonder if working for Filch would be worth just a dance.   
  
"Well, um, perhaps hanging isn't the best way to go about it?" Adrienne suggested timidly, raising a hand to neck, imagining what it would feel like to be hung. Filch glared at her and then motioned her into his office.   
  
"Putting girls in the hospital wing for days? That's what you're here for, you scoundrel?" Filch said as he sat down behind his cluttered and dusky oak desk.   
  
"Um, sure, why not," Adrienne replied, looking around the room.   
  
File cabinet upon file cabinet were lined along every wall, each reading an alphabetized lettering system, and Adrienne noticed that Fred and George seemed to have an entire wall devoted to them alone.   
  
"So, how many floors do I have to scrub?" Adrienne asked, turning her attention back to Filch, who was now rummaging through a drawer. He looked up quickly.  
  
"All of them," he replied and then continued his rummaging.   
  
"All of them?" Adrienne exclaimed.   
  
"What did you expect, dearie, a day at the park? You commit a crime, you have to be up to paying the consequences. That's the problem with kids these days, not willing to take charge for their actions, always wanting to blame it on someone else. Well let me tell you something, girl, you'll get the full work up with me, and don't think I'll lighten up on account of good behavior. The likes of you aren't capable of good behavior, it's just good acting skills, no doubt learned while you try and look innocent when you rip off an old man's hat. Don't you think for one instant I don't know it was one of your cronies who ripped off my hat!"   
  
Filch was seething now and his wrinkled face was drawn up in the grimace of all grimaces. Adrienne pushed her chair back from the desk and bit her lip.   
  
"I didn't take your hat, sir, and I don't know who did - "   
  
"All you do is lie!"   
  
"I don't even have cronies!" Adrienne yelled back.   
  
Filch slammed his hand atop the desk. "Do not deny it!"   
  
"I didn't even know you had a hat!" Adrienne shot back, narrowing her eyes defensively.   
  
"And now you can wash all the windows too for lying!"   
  
"But I'm not lying!"   
  
"And scrub all the portraits!"   
  
"But - "   
  
"And no magic!"   
  
Adrienne's eyes flashed and she jumped up.   
  
"Fine, no magic!"   
  
"Fine!"   
  
"Fine!"   
  
"You lying scoundrel!" Filch yelled at her.   
  
"You, you, great big meany!" Adrienne shot back. "And I hope someone steps on your cat!"   
  
"Plotting against my cat? Why you little - " and then Filch stopped, slowly sat down, and stared at her.   
  
"What, at a loss of insulting things to call me?" Adrienne asked.   
  
Filch didn't say anything for a second and then reached down for a bucket and rag, which he handed her over the desk.   
  
"In all my years at this school, I've been called worse thing than you've heard, but only one other girl has called me a great big meany and hoped someone would step on my cat," Filch said slowly, staring at Adrienne. "What did you say your surname was again?"   
  
Adrienne's jaw dropped. "Miles," she said hesitantly, having decided that announcing her name as Potter would have caused an uproar through the school that she wasn't ready to handle yet. Filch shook his head and rubbed his eyes.   
  
"Funny, from the way you talk and how you look, I would say your name's something else…well, you quivering baby, get to work, and mind you, Mrs. Norris will be watching you the entire time. One hint of magic and you'll hang," Filch said, narrowing his eyes again.   
  
"One hint of magic and you'll hang!" mimicked Adrienne as she made her way down to the Entrance Hall, "that sniveling snickerdoodle."   
  
Had it been anyone else, washing all the floors in the school would have been a daunting task, but for Adrienne, who had washed more floors in the last four years than probably all the students at Hogwarts and any other European wizarding school put together, it was a piece of cake.   
  
Adrienne filled up her bucket with water from a nearby bathroom, added the soap and then walked to the giant oak doors. She bent down, tightened the string that was holding the towels to the bottom of her feet, and then straightened back up. She glanced around the empty hall and took a large kick at the bucket, sending water flying all over the floor.   
  
Professor McGonagall watched from a nearby corridor as Adrienne skated over the wet floor, drying it with the towels, and signing in a rather off key tone of voice that made McGonagall wince . . .   
  
"There was an old lady who lived in a shoe, she had so many children she didn't know what to do…" and then upon realizing she didn't know the rest of the song… "so she fed them to a snake."   
  
Professor McGonagall made a mental note to never recommend Adrienne for babysitting and then returned to her study.   


  
* * *   


  
Adrienne was sliding down the corridor next to the library when she finally saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione, rounding the corner, Hermione carrying her green notebook and a quill.   
  
"Hey guys!" Adrienne called, skating up to them. They stopped in their tracks and watched her approach.   
  
"Aren't you afraid you'll fall?" Hermione asked slowly, watching with apprehension. Adrienne shrugged.   
  
"Nah! Done this loads of times, I just gotta remind myself not to go too fast on the really wet parts," she replied, just as one foot slipped out from the other and she fell right on her butt, sliding the rest of the way to her friends.   
  
"You mean, like that?" Ron asked sardonically. Adrienne glared up at him.   
  
"We're going to the library, Adri, you want to come?" Harry asked hastily, reaching down to give her a hand up.   
  
"What you looking for?" Adrienne asked, eyeing Hermione's notebook.   
  
"For stuff about those Perfects," Ron answered. "You know, your entire backside is soaked."   
  
Adrienne looked behind her and then shrugged.   
  
"Oh well. What is with you guys and this Perfect business?" Adrienne asked shortly; what Hermione had told her about the Golden Serpent hadn't reassured her one bit. "You could stay and keep me company."   
  
Hermione looked behind her at the flooded corridor.   
  
"How much do you have left to do?" she asked.   
  
Adrienne looked around. "Oh, only 'bout seven floors," she replied, counting on her fingers.   
  
"Seven floors!" Harry exclaimed. "No really, they're not making you clean all the floors?"   
  
"Yup, and the windows, and the portraits," Adrienne mumbled.   
  
"Well, you did get in a fight," Hermione reasoned, but stopped upon seeing Adrienne's annoyed face.   
  
"I'm quite aware of that, Hermi, must you remind me every single day?" she shot.   
  
Hermione didn't reply, but it looked like she was biting her lip to keep from saying anything.   
  
"Well, let's get this dumb library thing over before I change my mind," Ron sighed.   
  
"But the floor isn't dry," Hermione began, looking again down the wet corridor.   
  
"No problem, I'll clean it again, just walk on over. But take care not to slip, you'll bruise," said Adrienne, wearing a serious expression.   


  
* * *   


  
"There's only five books on Perfects in this whole library?" Ron asked gleefully, reaching for one of the books Hermione had set on the table.   
  
"Only five," she confirmed, a hint of disappointment in her voice. She and Harry both reached for a book.   
  
"What about this?" Ron said, looking up and beginning to read,_ "Perfects had great difficulty using the newly developed wands." _  
  
"Hmm," she replied, uninterested, not taking her attention away from the large, leather bound book before her.   
  
Ron shrugged his shoulders and glanced at Harry. "Guess that wasn't what she was looking for," he whispered.   
  
They sat in silence, scanning the large books before them, squinting in the bright sunlight that was pouring through a nearby open window.   
  
"Wait, listen to this," said Hermione, abruptly, her eyes lighting up. "_Because the magical powers of a Perfect were theoretically limitless, the thirst for omnipotence was often too much for many. The majority of those who practices the Acabado Art used it for Dark practices. Those who could resist the temptation lived their lives only using magic sparingly and never using any spells, such as those to raise the dead or prevent death, which required the sacrifice of another. Those who were not strong enough to do this, but refused to resort to Dark practices, often lost their sanity. Modern day scholars commonly refer to this mechanism as the Price of Perfection. It is credited with instigating the eventual downfall of the Acabadian Arts.   
  
_ "_Many of those who turned to the Dark, today referred to as anti-Perfects, were defeated several years prior to the foundation of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, the first school of modern magic. _  
  
"_With the eventual defeat of those on the Dark, the remaining Perfects, those both sane and not, slowly died away. It is believed that several were born with Perfect powers at the time that Hogwarts was being created, but as the new form of magic was seen to be not only safer, but more limited, those children were instead instructed at Hogwarts." _  
  
Harry frowned. "Perfects weren't the greatest people in the world, were they?" Harry asked.   
  
"These scholars don't really speak too highly of them either. Seems they think that the concept of theoretically all-powerful magic is a dangerous idea," Hermione added, flipping through more pages.   
  
"And they should think that!" Ron interrupted. "Think if some were born today? They wouldn't really have any codes or laws to follow to regulate their magic; they could do what ever they wanted, couldn't they?" Ron asked hotly.   
  
"If they were weak or really didn't believe in right or wrong, I suppose so," she said with a frown, telling herself that perhaps she'd have to order some books on the subject from Flourish and Blotts.   


  
* * *   


  
Had it not been for Professor Snape, Draco Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins, and Lavender and Parvati taking great pains to walk through Adrienne's drying floors, she would have been done in record time. This, however, did not faze Adrienne in the least.   
  
"There, that's that, and I'm done!" she sighed Thursday night, looking proudly at the last window she had washed, and then turning her head as voices wafted into the corridor.   
  
"I cannot believe the dance is tomorrow. Do you know what I foresaw only last night?"   
  
"Oh, do tell me, for I had a vision also, perhaps they are of the same substance?"   
  
Adrienne smiled evilly and slowly followed the voices down the corridor.   
  
"It was of the formal," came Lavender's voice as Adrienne drew nearer.   
  
"Yes? And were you wearing the purple dress?" Parvati asked excitedly.   
  
"Oh, you saw that too? The fates must be telling me that I'll be graced in lavender tomorrow," Lavender squealed.   
  
"As beautiful as your name!"   
  
"Oh what kind of stupid prediction is that? That's the only color dress you have, Lavender Smavender," Adrienne muttered, rolling her eyes. "Anyone who's seen your wardrobe could have predicted that one."   
  
Adrienne reached the stairwell and looked over the railing. Two floors below, Lavender and Parvati were standing on an island, talking animatedly in very loud voices, no doubt to make sure everyone in hearing distance heard about their "predictions." Adrienne stood there for a second, wearing a calculating look, staring down at them, and then, without hesitation, heaved her dirty bucket onto the ledge and tipped it. Their screams filled the air as murky and soapy water rained down upon them. Adrienne ran down the stairs, skidding to a halt feet away from them.   
  
"Thought you needed a good washing, slimeballs," she spat, and then, before they could think of anything to say, Adrienne gave them the thumbs up and sashayed away, yelling behind her, "The drowned rat look works great with your eyes!"   


  
* * *   


  
"Where is everyone?" Adrienne asked as she pushed her way into the dormitory Friday afternoon. Hermione looked up from her book.   
  
"One of Parvati and Lavender's seventh year friends is letting them prepare in her dormitory," Hermione said distractedly.   
  
"Let us sing the praises of that dear, blessed girl!" Adrienne exclaimed, skipping over to her bed.   
  
Hermione shook her head and put down her book. Adrienne stopped next to her cabinet and pulled it open.   
  
"I suppose it's time to get ready," Hermione sighed, heaving herself off her bed. "What are you doing with your makeup and hair?"   
  
Adrienne stopped mid-reach for her gown and flew around. She hadn't thought of that.   
  
"I'm not doing anything," she replied quickly, still refusing to look in a mirror. Hermione raised an eyebrow.   
  
"When over holiday did you decide to stop taking any notice about your appearance. I mean, no make-up, no hairdos, not that that's bad, but you did use to care at least a bit about them. Even Pansy Parkinson takes more care of her appearance than you do lately, and come on, Adrienne, that's really saying something," Hermione said, looking at her strangely.   
  
Adrienne stiffened. "I just don't want to be that superficial, that's all," she lied.   
  
Hermione shook her head and walked over to her friend. "Then I'll do it for you," she suggested. Adrienne flew around, a horrified look on her face.   
  
"I am not letting you touch my hair, Miss I-Work-For-Helga's-International-House-Of-Pain! I'll be bald by the time you're done with me!" Adrienne exclaimed, raising her hands and grabbing her hair in a protectionistic attitude.   


  
* * *   


  
"Really now, this is getting ridiculous," Ron moaned as he and Harry trudged up the spiral staircase. "The dance started more than fifteen minutes ago!"   
  
"Well, at least being late with Hermione and Adrienne is better than going with Parvati and Padma and being on time," Harry suggested.   
  
Ron stormed down the girls' corridor, Harry following with a rather amused expression. Both boys had acquired tuxes through the help of Sirius over the winter holiday, and Harry had to admit that they were a lot more dignifying to wear than his bottle-green dress robes, which made him feel like he was wearing a dress, even more so than his normal robes.   
  
"Those girls," Ron muttered. "Are you two almost done? The dance is probably already over by now!"   
  
"Don't feel rushed or anything!" Harry called through the door, smirking at Ron, who was pounding on it with is fists.   
  
"Keep your pants on! Geez!" The door swung open and Adrienne gave Ron a shove on the shoulder. "It's just a dance!"   
  
Ron staggered backwards and then, upon regaining his balance, gapped wide-eyed at her. Adrienne stood in the doorway, her black hair pulled up onto the top of her head in a crown of ringlets. Around her neck lay a tight choker made entirely out of crystal, thanks solely to Hermione's wonderful transfiguration skills. Upon her shoulders were two thin blue straps that connected at her collarbone with butterfly clasps to the rest of her dress. From the high neckline all the way down to her hips, sparkling blue material fit like a second skin, and then upon meeting her hips, flowed down around her in a princess style, stopping right above her heels.   
  
"Wow," Ron muttered breathlessly, his jaw still hanging open.   
  
"Ya like?" Adrienne said timidly, smiling hopefully at him. Ron nodded, a huge smile breaking over his face.   
  
"You're beautiful!" Harry said, smiling at her. "Really, really gorgeous."   
  
"Thanks!" Adrienne said, raising her eyebrows and shoulders in excitement. "Hermi! Come on!" Adrienne turned on her heel and walked back into the dormitory, leaving Ron and Harry staring after her.   
  
"Wow, that back makes up for the high neck, doesn't it?" Ron said slowly.   
  
"What do you mean back?" Harry asked slowly, "There's barely any back. I think I agree with that Professor of hers - "   
  
"If you guys think I look pretty, wait until you see, Hermi!" Adrienne called through the dormitory, pulling Hermione out of a corner.   
  
Hermione wore a dark plum dress that had a circle neckline, fitting right at her collarbones also, and flowed beautifully all the way down to her ankles. Small plum rhinestones adorned the torso, gathering in their frequency until they formed the entire last two inches of her skirt. Her hair was pulled back with a sparkling headband and flowed in gentle curls down her shoulders.   
  
"Wow again," Ron said, blinking several times.   
  
Harry just stood there until Adrienne cleared her throat, rather loudly, and sent him a piercing stare. Only then did Harry stride forward and kiss Hermione's cheek.  
  
"Stunning," he whispered, and then turned to Ron. "How do you suppose we landed with the best looking girls in the school?"   
  
"Your dumb luck," Adrienne said with a laugh, and then grabbed Ron by the arm and led him through the doorway.   
  
When they arrived at the head of the marble staircase, Harry looked in wonder out over the balcony. Below him, multitudes of students dressed in exquisite outfits were meandering from the open doors leading to the Great Hall. Through the doors at the end of the room before him, Harry could make out the glow radiating from the Great Hall, and quite excitedly, pulled Hermione after him as he made his way down the staircase. Ron and Adrienne followed them, Adrienne clinging tightly onto Ron's arm in a desperate attempt to not tumble down the stairs.   
  
"This is going to be wonderful!" Adrienne sighed as she and Ron reached the foot of the staircase. Ron nodded his head fervently.   
  
"Come on, they're getting ahead of us!" Adrienne urged, trying to catch up to Harry and Hermione.   
  
The long House tables in the Great Hall had been removed, and unlike last year, there were few circular tables. These were pushed back into the corners and adorned with pale pink tablecloths and crystal vases that held small, light purple water-proof flames. Above the dance floor, suspended in mid-air were glorious diamond chandeliers that caused the glow from the purple flames to sparkle along the walls and the dancers.   
  
"Ugh!" Adrienne moaned as she and Ron entered the Hall. Ron stopped in his tracks and turned.   
  
"What's the matter?" he asked urgently, afraid he had already done something wrong.   
  
"The Weird Sisters, I HATE the Weird Sisters. They're just … they're just …" Adrienne muttered, looking for the right word.   
  
"Weird?" Ron suggested. Adrienne looked up at him and grinned.   
  
"Exactly."   
  
Ron looked around the room, searching for the band. His eyes fell upon the dance floor, where the students had just recently flocked to as a slow dance had began. Professor McGonagall, in a long, black dress, with a shimmering shawl over her shoulders was waltzing, not in time to the music at all, with Professor Dumbledore, who was wearing a bright turquoise suit. Ron chuckled and moved on. On the other side of the floor, Draco Malfoy was dancing with Pansy Parkinson, who, in the candlelight looked more like a pug than ever.   
  
"I think he's blind," Adrienne whispered, standing on her tiptoes to reach Ron's ear. He turned and looked at her, a confused smile on his freckly face.   
  
"Who?" he asked.   
  
"Draco! I mean, Pansy is so ugly. He either has to be blind, or perhaps somewhere deep down he's really sweet and understanding and realizes that true beauty fades but the inner beauty only blossoms," Adrienne said with a tinge of sarcasm that made Ron laugh.   
  
"I'll take blind for four hundred, please," Ron replied.   


  
*   


  
"Harry?" Hermione said wearily as they made their way along the edge of the dance floor.   
  
"Hmm?"   
  
The two stopped next to an empty table. Hermione turned and pointed.   
  
"There's Adrienne and Ron," she said, indicating between two dancing couples she didn't know. Harry leaned slightly closer to her to see where she was pointing. He straightened back up and nodded.   
  
"Yup," he replied, looking down at her with a straight face.   
  
"So, don't you want to go over with them?" Hermione asked, craning her neck to see over Lavender and Dean, who had just blocked her view. Harry shook his head, and reached for her hand.   
  
"Not particularly. Personally? I want to dance," he said, and then led her, weaving through the multitudes of people, to the center of the dance floor.   


  
*   


  
"I don't see them," Adrienne said, standing on her tiptoes to see through the crowd, "Wait, I'll stand on the chair, then I can see."   
  
She moved toward a nearby, unoccupied chair, but Ron caught her around the waist and pulled her back, resting his chin on her shoulder.   
  
"The last thing you need to do tonight is fall off a chair," he whispered. Adrienne grinned, not the least bit offended. She rested her hands on his.   
  
"Ok, now that we've established the last thing on my to-do list for tonight, what's my first?" she asked slowly, grinning wider.   
  
"I say, we dance," Ron said, turning and facing her toward the dance floor. Adrienne smiled.   
  
"And no protesting either, because I checked, it's not the Weird Sisters; Fred and George are in charge of music," Ron said, and then frowned, "Merlin, this could be interesting."   


  
*   


  
The dance was winding toward an end, and Adrienne and Ron, dancing in an attempt to copy Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore's waltzing, managed to dance right into another couple.   
  
"Balance problems, Adrienne?" Harry asked as she apologized for almost knocking him and Hermione over. Adrienne glared at him.   
  
"No," she shot.   
  
"There isn't much left, is there?" Ron asked, looking around disappointedly as people began to slowly file off the floor in exhaustion.   
  
"It's over at midnight," Hermione said, wishing she had worn a watch.   
  
"Well then, what are we standing around for?" Adrienne exclaimed, reaching for Ron, "We should be dancing all the way until the clock strikes twelve!" And with that she led Ron away.   


  
*   


  
As Fred announced the last dance of the evening, Adrienne raised her arms and wrapped them around Ron's neck, and gazed up at him, smiling radiantly, listening to the beautiful lyrics playing in her ear.   
  
Ron wrapped his arms around her back and then slowly let them slide down until they rested on her hips. Completely content, Adrienne moved closer, resting her head on his shoulder and shut her eyes, thinking how wonderful the night had been: No voice, no torments, no reminders that somehow in the past two months, someone she had never met had made her lose a match, miss a Quidditch game, knock out Parvati and Lavender, and use the Imperious Curse on Crookshanks. Adrienne smiled and sighed.   
  
_'Enjoying the dance?' _  
  
Adrienne tensed and snapped her eyes open. Ron jumped back, startled, looking at her with a worried expression.   
  
"Are you all right?" he asked, reaching for her shoulder. Adrienne nodded, her heart rising in her throat.   
  
"I'm fine," she whispered, stepping toward him. Ron wrapped his arms back around her and Adrienne put her head back on his shoulder.   
  
'Please go away,' she thought, squeezing her eyes shut in hope.   
  
_'What did I tell you?" _ Adrienne tightened her grip on Ron's shoulders, as if the closer she got to him, the more distance she could put between herself and the voice.   
  
_'That's quite a pretty song, is it not? And so true,' _the voice laughed, causing Adrienne to wince in pain. _'You think that you can hide from me? You think you can just wish me away? You can't. You can't escape. You can't hide. I've already won.' _  
  
_ 'Can you see your brother? I bet you can. Look at him.' _  
  
'No,' Adrienne thought, her eyes clamped shut, 'I won't!'   
  
_'Look at him,' _the voice ordered, the shrill mocking tone dropping to a growl.   
  
Adrienne reluctantly, although her mind was yelling at her not to, opened her eyes, and turned her head ever so slightly.   
  
_'See him? He's dancing with that Mudblood, isn't he?' _  
  
Adrienne's eyes began to tear and she tightened her grip even more on Ron.   
  
_'Well, answer me, child!' _  
  
"Yes," Adrienne whispered.   
  
"What did you say, Adrienne?" Ron said, turning his head slightly to look at her.   
  
"Nothing," Adrienne replied in a quiet voice.   
  
_'This will be the last time he dances with her, won't it?' _  
  
Adrienne bit her lip.   
  
'I won't help you,' she thought, her heart tightening in her chest. The voice laughed.   
  
'_You don't have a choice. You really are stupid, aren't you? You haven't realized it, or are you trying to believe it isn't happening? You can't tell me no, can you? Look at all I've made you do? Did you ever think you'd stoop low enough to curse a cat? Especially that of your best friend?' _  
  
'I won't help you,' Adrienne repeated, her mind flashing before you, her heart clenching.   
  
He was right; she hadn't been able to stop herself from doing any of her things. She never wanted to lose the match. She had contemplated it, yes, but she'd never actually do it. Yet, she lost, and to Cho! CHO! Adrienne slammed her eyes shut. She hadn't fallen asleep and missed the Quidditch game on purpose, and hadn't she asked Lavender and Parvati to leave? And Crookshanks, he could have just caught those damned mice in the first place.   
  
_'You can't escape me, and you will help me.'   
  
_ 'What if I don't?' Adrienne asked, taking deep breaths. The voice laughed, and Ron could feel Adrienne flinch again.   
  
_'If, for some reason, Perfect, you prove to be stronger than you really are, then I'll just let it slip why the Death Eaters came to the Gallows, why they wanted you. You do realize - or haven't you studied Perfects yet - there were very few Perfects who didn't end up practicing Dark Magic. The temptation to be omnipotent, it's too much. I bet the majority of people will be afraid of you, won't they? Especially as all those people at the Gallows died because of you. Think of your professors … think of that Mondel guy, after all the help he gave you, he died because of you. What kind of repayment is that, murderer?' _  
  
"I didn't kill anyone," Adrienne whispered.   
  
Ron looked down at her quickly, his eyes narrowed in a confused expression.   
  
"Adrienne?" he said, bending his head down a little. Adrienne ignored him.   
  
_'They died because of you though, making you a murderer, and even so you will be once you give me your brother. Think of the headlines: Missing Potter Child Delivers her Brother to Voldemort.' _  
  
Adrienne's eyes snapped open.   
  
_'Don't fight me, child. Think of how powerful I can make you. I'm asking you for your help.' _  
  
Adrienne shook her head angrily, her eyes narrowing, and stepped back from Ron. Next to her, Hermione and Harry stopped dancing, too occupied with staring at her.   
  
"Adrienne?" Harry asked, stepping away from Hermione. Ron stepped closer to her, but Adrienne didn't notice.   
  
'I won't,' she thought, closing her eyes, trying extremely hard to contain the hatred that was building in her gut.   
  
_'You'll always be alone,' _the voice echoed through her head, '_Join me, Adrienne. When will you ever fit in here? You can't do their magic. You can't compete with your brother's fame. Join me.' _  
  
Adrienne blinked and opened her eyes, ahead of her stood Ron and Harry.   
  
"Are you all right?" Harry asked, reaching for her. Adrienne sidestepped his hand, drawing her skirt up around her.   
  
"I don' t feel well, excuse me," she whispered, and then ran from the room, leaving her best friend, her boyfriend, and her brother staring after her.   


  
* * *   


  
Voldemort, slightly winded from keeping the curse going for so long, set down his wand and the wand Adrienne had dropped in the forest outside of the Gallows. He leaned back in his chair and stared triumphantly around his dark chamber.   
  
"Were you successful, master?" Lucius asked, stepping out of the shadows with Wormtail. Voldemort sneered.   
  
"Of course I was. She is so insecure already, it makes her much easier to manipulate," Voldemort hissed, his red eyes flashing hungrily.   
  
"When will it be time, my Lord?" Wormtail asked, approaching cautiously.   
  
"Soon, Wormtail, soon. She can't fight me: She's too dumb to, too weak. She's at Hogwarts, with Harry, and anytime I want her to be, she's under my control. She can't tell them anything: I've taken care of that. This time, I won't fail," Voldemort hissed, reaching for the box on the nearby table. He slowly opened it and withdrew the Golden Serpent, watching it shimmer in the torchlight.   
  
"Admirable Slytherin?" he asked into the silent chamber, "you knew all along that the Dark Arts would regain their strength. But did you know it would be Gryffindor's own descendant who would destroy everything he and those other two fools worked so hard to build?" Voldemort's laughter echoed through the chamber and he slowly put the serpent back in its box.   
  
"My darling, Adrienne," Voldemort whispered, "it's almost time."   


  
* * *   


  
The corridors were filled with the suppressed chatter of the exhausted students, each standing rather close to the one that drew their affection, the girls flirtatiously playing with their hair, batting their eyelashes with the rapidity of hummingbird wings, while the boys stood, often leaning against a wall, staring contentedly. Not one person of this scene noticed the girl walk past them. They didn't notice the purpose in her stride, nor did they notice the look of malignant hatred splashed across her tear-stained face. They didn't comprehend the fire in her eye, the fire that had been missing for so long; and now, in the state of utter confusion and vicious vengeance that was coursing through her body, Adrienne didn't notice those around her either. She didn't hear their sing-song, coy voices. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, her fists clenched, her heeled shoes being ground into the floor with every stomping stride she took.   
  
The portrait-laden corridors flew by her in a mix of color and overwhelming confusion. The tapestries that served as entrances into hidden staircases didn't draw her attention; she just walked right through them, letting them slide up her face and across her crowned hair, tossing the curls Hermione had spent so long trying to tame into a tangle of snarled, black hair. The stairs were ahead of her, their steps beckoning to her with a urgency that made her hurry, hustling up them, her heels clicking, her dress drew up around her to facilitate her quick and necessary footsteps. She entered a dead-end corridor, yet she didn't turn, nor did she slow down. As the end approached and the portrait of the Fat Lady came into view, Adrienne opened her mouth.   
  
"Inverness," she said in an emotionless tone of voice, and then walked through the portrait hole into the semi-empty common room. Several students looked up from their dreamy reveries of the dance, staring at Adrienne in a surprised way. Adrienne paid no attention to their stares, and slowly, as she began her ascent up the spiral staircase, the quiet chatter resumed as all realerted their attention to more pressing matters, such as whom had danced with whom.   
  
She walked with the same purpose up the spiral staircase and then strode through the hallway, her feet no longer clicking her progress, but instead her stomps were muffled by the rich, purple carpeting. The doorway on the right, labeled with a platinum-plated 5, was her goal, and with quick hands she grabbed the doorknob and let go, letting the door swing open with the masked force from the small push she had given it. All four beds were but mere shadows in the moonlight, the shapes of the hangings casting odd outlines onto the dim walls. Adrienne shut the door behind her and walked down the middle of the row between the beds, her eyes staring out the window ahead of her. Her feet turned in direction, leading her to the left. The rest of her body followed, her eyes now lowered to the floor. Finally, her outstretched arms hit it, and her fingers ran over the smooth and cool surface. Then, with great reluctance, she raised her head.   
  
In the mirror her reflection stood. Adrienne stared at it, her eyes starting at the hem of her gown, then traveling upwards, along the dress' line until she arrived at the face she hadn't looked into since the day in the hospital wing. Her bright green eyes stared back at her, and she smiled slightly at the sight of her ragged hair. Adrienne didn't move, didn't speak. She just stared into the mirror, not at anything in particular, just stared. Finally, when she didn't know what else to look at, she raised her right hand, fingers spread, and looked at the reflection of her palm.   
  
"A symbol of strength?" she whispered into the darkness. Her mind returned to the scene that had taken place ten minutes earlier. She had left the dance, unable to stand it anymore, unable to stand the fact that half the time she was definitely not the one in control of her own actions. Adrienne raised her eyes and stared back into the reflected green orbs, wondering, her patience gone. The evening had been so perfect, so wonderful. She had enjoyed herself so much, enjoyed Ron so much, enjoyed everything so much. Adrienne narrowed her eyes.   
  
"A symbol of strength?" she repeated, staring intently into her own eyes, "we'll see."  
  
**  
**


	28. We All Fall Down

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

Author's Note: Borrowed a bit of_ Paradise Lost_, and since Milton's dead, I didn't ask permission. 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 28: We All Fall Down**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Voldemort's chamber had emptied for the night, save for the dying torches left flicking upon the walls, providing the dim light that so often cast shadows to hide the corners. Upon the back wall, cloaked in the veil of secrecy provided by the deep shadows, a lone oak table stood. It was covered in a silver cloth, with embroidered serpents along the hem, and hung to the dusty ground. On either end sat two large basins set atop serpent shaped holders. A gray powdery substance filled them, and singe marks along the sides of the basin showed that at one point, the powder had provided fuel for flame. And set upon the middle of the table, an ornate spellbook, bound in dark green cracking leather, with faded gold embossing that no longer was bright enough to portray the book's name. It was lying open, a dark green feather jammed into the book's binding to mark the page.  


At the top read the title: "Impuesto." And written below it, in italicized letters read the inscription that would later be quoted (although the man would never admit it) by a Muggle in his own novel, Paradise Lost :   


_

The mind is its own place, and in itself   
Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.   


_

These words had been underlined in green ink, and written next to them, in pristine writing was the name: Adrienne. A little further down the page, underlined in the same green ink, was the introduction to the curse:   


_For as long as I can remember, we have practiced the art of mental manipulation. Under my own powers, I have achieved this, but I am also privy to the knowledge that few will ever achieve the magical prowess in which I am endowed. Thus, in the following pages, taken straight from the Acabadian concept of mental manipulation, I have recorded my studies and bequeath them to my heir to use as he or she sees fit. - Salazar Slytherin.   
_

  
* * *   


"You can't do this to me!" Adrienne called out into her empty dormitory, her hands on her hips. She was rocking back and forth on her feet, exhausted from dancing, her eyes narrowed in rebellion.   


"Are you even listening to me?" she snapped, her head jerking back and forth as if she were expecting someone to emerge from the shadows. "Well, you'd better be, because I'm tired of it, you hear me? I'm tired of it!" She stomped her foot in protest as Voldemort ignored her.   


"I don't care who you think you are; I don't care what you think you are capable of doing, but you _will_ leave me alone."  
  
Adrienne smiled slightly as she felt the familiar cloudy feeling float through her brain. He was back, she could feel it.   


_'Are you finished yet?' _  


"No," Adrienne nearly shouted.   


_'Yes, you are,' _Voldemort hissed. _'I have told you before, and I will tell you again, Perfect, you belong to me. Your future, your destiny has been already determined, written in the legacy of magic by the last Perfect before you, Salazar Slytherin himself. Is that clear?' _  


Adrienne shifted slightly and then turned, her arms behind her back. She slowly began to walk the length of her dormitory.   


"Excuse me, _sir_," she said in a haughty voice, drawling out 'sir' with extreme distaste, "but I've never been the most apt student, per say. If you really are insistent upon knowing what I don't understand, then fine. I want to know how you're doing this," Adrienne pressed, trying very hard to focus her mental thoughts on something else, choosing to focus entirely on Crookshanks. She knew that Voldemort was capable of seeing her thoughts, and she wasn't about to make it easier for him by dwelling on them.   


A cold, high laughter echoed through her mind, but Adrienne didn't shiver this time. She stood there, staring at Crookshanks, her eyes beginning to water, but she refused to blink. She needed something to keep her occupied and her gut was telling her that if she could keep focused on Crookshanks then perhaps she'd show Voldemort that she wasn't as weak as he thought.   


_'Do you think I'm foolish enough to tell you my plans? Do you think I'd be willing to risk everything just because you requested it?' _Voldemort laughed again.   


Adrienne didn't wince, she didn't even blink.   


"I want you to leave me alone," she said calmly, her vision beginning to blur as her eyes lost focus.   


_'Or what, child, what would you possibly do? I thought we've been through this before. I thought I've explained to you that there is no one to whom you can turn for help. Do you not have any idea of what restrictions I've placed on you?'   
_

Adrienne didn't reply at first, Crookshanks slipping out of her focus, her world losing all shape and visual countenance.   


"You think I'm under your control?" Adrienne asked, her eyes crossing and her head beginning to ache, but she continued to stare ahead.   


_'You are under my control. I could make you do anything I wanted to, but not everything is in place. If it were, my plan would already have been fulfilled.' _  


Adrienne was shaking now, something in her gut telling her that it was working. Don't blink. She had no idea what she was doing, but something was telling her to continue doing it.   


"You think I'm under your control?" Adrienne asked yet again as her vision went black and she was plunged into darkness.   


_'Where are you going with this?' _  


Voldemort was sitting at the edge of his chair, holding both his wand and Adrienne's original wand before him. He could feel it, although he didn't know exactly how or why. He couldn't see them, the thoughts that had for the last several months been running freely through his own mind as if they were his own. She was fighting, but how?   


"I asked you a question and the least you can do is answer," Adrienne said again, biting her lip in pain as the pressure in her head built, her facial muscles struggling to keep her eyes open.   


Voldemort tightened his grip on the wands and narrowed his eyes.   


_'You are under my control, but if you must know, not my complete control. I didn't fully complete the curse, child. I wanted to just push you in the direction. I guess you could say I was hoping you'd chose to follow me,' _Voldemort whispered into her mind, deciding that perhaps it would be best to give her a little more information, especially something that told her that if she didn't cooperate, he would finish the curse.   


Adrienne was shaking now. She honestly had no idea what she was doing. Something deep down in her gut was telling her to keep doing it though, the same something that had instructed her while she was in the MSB the day her necklace burned her. She was doing something right, she knew it, and so did Voldemort.   


Voldemort's eyes widened as he stared at the space between the two wands he was holding before him. Every other time when he had communicated with her, an oval orb had appeared between the wands, furnished by streaks of light emitting from both wands, showing that the live connection between the two was open. But now, the light was flickering and the oval slowly fading. He shut his eyes and tried his hardest to focus on the thoughts he was drawing from Adrienne. But this time they only existed as little whispers of information in the back of his mind that he couldn't come close enough to grasping. She was escaping.   


"I think then, _sir_, we have different views of what the word 'control' means," Adrienne whispered into her silent dormitory. "I'm warning you now, leave me alone, or I guarantee you, if we ever meet, you won't be a happy camper."   


Voldemort's eyes snapped open, the red pupils flashing in the flickering torchlight.   


_'Child, don't you dare threaten me,' _he hissed into his chamber, his voice flowing into the oval light before him and surfacing in Adrienne's mind. But this time Adrienne could barely hear it. She raised her right arm before her, to neck height, and spread her fingers.   


"Get out of my mind," she hissed and then snapped her hand into a fist and smiled as she felt the haze leave the back of her mind.   


She snapped her burning eyes shut and let out a moan of pain as tears flooded the burning tissue. She was breathing heavily, her mind reeling. She didn't know what curse he had used, but she had learned enough from Professor Hartel to know that all controlling curses, especially the Imperious Curse, could be broken by sheer will. She slowly opened her eyes, a sense of relief flooding her. If she could force Voldemort from her mind, she could somehow swallow the ridiculous fear that was hiding in her brain, and tell Hermione, Harry, and Ron what had been going on.   


"After tonight, if they haven't been curious, they definitely will be," she whispered.  


The dormitory had come back into a blurred focus. Adrienne turned around and stared into the mirror hanging upon the wall before her. She was still wearing her formal. She smiled at herself.   


"Wolf cub my foot. No one's going to tell me what to do anymore. It's my future, and I'm going to be in charge of it," she assured herself, but Voldemort's words concerning that she hadn't been under a full curse were creeping into her mind, her insecurities pushing their way back into her thoughts.   


Adrienne swallowed. She had a bad feeling. She set her jaw and turned on her heel. If he was going to try and really curse her now, she'd at least ask someone for help before he had the chance.   


***   


Voldemort screamed in anger and jumped up from his chair, the image of the lighted oval disappearing into oblivion playing through his mind. Wormtail ran out from his place in the shadows.   


"My Lord, what happened?" Wormtail asked hurriedly, his eyes widening in fear at the look of fury inhabiting Voldemort's face. It almost rivaled that which he had worn the night Harry had escaped from the graveyard. A small breath of relief washed over Wormtail: At least Voldemort wasn't as angry as he had been that night.   


"The entire family is worthless!" Voldemort exclaimed, his red eyes turning around to stare, flaming, at Wormtail.   


"I thought we had already established that," Wormtail muttered, taking a hesitant step back.   


"No, we established fourteen years ago that the parents were too noble. We established several times already that the boy must die. But, the girl, the Perfect, I had hoped she could have been converted. She's insecure enough. What did I tell you about Slytherin's research, Wormtail?" Voldemort asked, his voice cold and clipped. Wormtail swallowed.   


"Um, well My Lord, you said he tried to convert Perfect spells to magic we could perform," Wormtail said hesitantly, not really remembering what Voldemort had told him.   


"Fool!" Voldemort snapped, striding to the back of the chamber, flicking his wand at the table hidden in the shadows. Two bright green flames erupted from the basins at either end of the table.   


"Perfects have the ability to control minds, which was only practiced by who, Wormtail?" Voldemort hissed. Wormtail trudged after his master, his head hung low in dread of what his master could possibly be using Slytherin's spellbook for.   


"Mind control and manipulation were only practiced by the dark ones," Wormtail answered, stopping several feet behind Voldemort, not daring to step any closer.   


"And how did he reconcile the strength difference between the Acabadian magic and our magic?"   


Wormtail made a face, but racked his brains for the answer. Now he wished he had paid better attention to Voldemort's lectures, but he also had the funny feeling that this topic had never really been covered in any of his lectures: Cross-Arts Spells were never discussed.   


"I don't know, My Lord," Wormtail replied. He didn't want to know either.   


"He figured out something, Wormtail, something that lower wizards are only beginning to figure out today. There's a reason all Wizards have only one wand that suits them best. Your wand, over time, becomes associated with your mental process, and even can anticipate your thoughts. If you were to have another Wizard's wand, you could, if you knew the right curse, use it to control the individual. It's much more complex than the Imperious Curse, but far more difficult to break." Voldemort turned at this, his red eyes no longer gleaming with anger.   


"I thought, and I thought wrong, that if I just played on the Perfect's fears, her insecurities, that she'd eventually give in. That she'd convince herself for us that she was a failure, she was a murderer, that she was below everyone. And once that threshold is crossed, turning her to the Dark Arts would be easy."   


Voldemort turned back to face the table and placed a pale, spidery hand onto Slytherin's spellbook.   


"But, Wormtail, I'm through with allowing her a chance to come over on her own will."   


Voldemort ran his fingers up to the corner of the page and turned it, the parchment crackling beneath his fingers. His red eyes ran down the page, skimming the text and the instructions.   


"She is stronger than I thought, but nevertheless, this will not happen again," he whispered furiously, and raised his wand into the air, his left hand raising Adrienne's wand.   


* * *   


"This is getting very old," Hermione snapped as she, Harry, and Ron rounded the corner that led toward the Gryffindor common room. Hermione had her formal drawn up around her in a pretentious fashion, and was walking with quick strides, leaving the boys rushing to keep up with her.   


"Does she think we don't notice her behavior changes? What does she take me for...a complete fool?" Hermione spat, quickening her pace.   


"Hold on, Hermione," Harry called after her, jogging forward.   


"It isn't that hard to come out and say that she has some form of survivor's guilt," Hermione sulked, ignoring Harry's protests. "But no, telling the truth and admitting her faults isn't good enough for her."   


"Maybe she's in denial," Harry suggested. "Maybe she thinks that if she denies what happened then somehow it will just go away."   


"And it's not just that, you do know she has a triangle burnt into her hand?" Hermione replied, stopping abruptly before the Fat Lady.   


"Why would she burn a triangle into her hand?" Ron asked, his eyebrows furrowing in thought. Hermione whipped around, exasperated.   


"How am I supposed to understand why she'd have a triangle on her palm? How am I supposed to understand her at all...she's mad!"   


Ron smiled slightly at this.   


"But you have to admit that she's the best looking mad-woman around," he said slyly. Hermione groaned.   


"Inverness," she told the Fat Lady, and then stepped through the portrait hole.   


The Gryffindor common room had filled substantially more since Adrienne had stomped through earlier. The large high-backed chairs by the fireplace were occupied; students were sprawled out on the ground, many still dressed from the dance. They didn't pay any attention to Hermione, Ron, and Harry's quick procession through the room.   


"I don't care what crazy excuses she comes up with this time, that girl isn't moving forward in her life until she talks."   


Harry raised his eyebrows to Ron at Hermione's latest exclamation. They scampered up the spiral staircase in silence, Hermione taking the time to reflect upon what she was going to say to Adrienne. She didn't, however, receive much time in which to accomplish this task.   


"Umpf!"   


"Ouch!"   


Upon rounding the corner that led to the girl's corridor, Hermione ran headlong into Adrienne, who promptly jumped back, slapping a hand to her forehead in pain.   


"Adrienne! Watch where you are going!" Hermione exclaimed, wincing.   


Adrienne shook her head slightly, trying to relieve the slight throbbing pain that had procured from their collision.   


"Are you two alright?" Harry asked, stepping forward to look at the two girls, still clinging to their heads.   


Adrienne blinked and nodded, chuckling slightly. Despite the headache, this was the best her head and mind had felt in weeks. No crazy little voices echoing through her skull this time. The only lingering thought worrying her right now was that probably any moment Voldemort would be administering the curse for real. She had to tell them now.   


"Yeah, that looked like it hurt," Ron interjected, rubbing his own head in empathy.   


"Never mind that," Adrienne said suddenly, exhaling as she spoke.   


"Yes, never mind that," Hermione began, dropping her hand and staring at Adrienne, her face a mixture of impatience and worry. "Adrienne - "   


"Right," Adrienne interrupted, nodding her head vigorously, her hands shaking slightly. Just do it, she thought, but again she hesitated ... where to begin?   


"Right what?" Ron asked curiously.   


All three were staring rather intently now, and Adrienne suddenly didn't like all the attention. Hermione leaned forward in anticipation.   


"Right," Adrienne started again, and then took a deep breath. "I'm a Perfect."   


Whatever kind of explanation Hermione was expecting, this wasn't it. Next to her, Harry's jaw dropped and Ron raised a red eyebrow.   


"Well, don't lets all start asking questions right away," Adrienne said, shifting her weight nervously.   


Hermione continued to stare at her for several tense seconds before she began to chuckle.   


"No, really, Adrienne, this isn't the time for your crazy imaginative games," she said lightheartedly, still laughing.   


This time it was Adrienne's jaw that dropped.   


"I'm not joking, Hermione," she spat, her face flushing slightly at the fact that they didn't believer her.   


"Of course you are, Adrienne," Hermione said briskly, raising an eyebrow, momentarily forgetting the mission she had declared on their trip to Gryffindor Tower. "Come now, don't speak such nonsense."   


"But it's true!" Adrienne exclaimed, raising her arms in exasperation.   


"Question?" Harry had now entered the conversation, which was definitely not going the way Adrienne had hoped. Adrienne turned her attention quickly to him, a small hopeful smile breaking across her face.   


"Aren't Perfects supposed to have unlimited magical abilities?" he asked a little apprehensively, agreeing fully with what Hermione was currently thinking: Adrienne had finally lost it.   


"And your point?" Adrienne asked rather defensively; although, she had an idea where he was going with the comment.   


"Well, unless you're keeping something drastic from us, you don't really have unlimited magical abilities."   


Adrienne narrowed her eyes.   


"That's beside the point," she snapped.   


"So..." Ron started, hastily trying to change the subject, "you by any chance want to discuss what happened back at the dance?"   


"Yes, what is going on, Adrienne? You know you can tell us,' Hermione added.   


Adrienne rolled her eyes: This wasn't going to go over very well.   


"I've been trying to tell you. I'm a Perfect and --"   


"You _are_ not! Whatever is bothering you can't be that bad that you feel you need to make up ridiculously impossible lies to cover it," Hermione chastised.   


Adrienne scowled.   


"I am too a Perfect. I'm not lying!" she growled, narrowing her eyes even more.   


Whatever patience Hermione had been harboring left her at this point.   


"Adrienne, there is no possible way you could be a Perfect." Hermione said this with the same conviction as she had had when informing Professor Lupin that under no possible circumstances could Peter Pettigrew be an anamagi, let alone be Scabbers.   


"And why not?" Adrienne hissed, her fists balling.   


She had thought that they would have at least attempted to believe her.   


"Yeah, why not?" agreed Harry, turning to look at Hermione, whose face was just as infuriated as Adrienne's.   


"Because everyone knows that Perfects can't use wands. The force of magic that Perfects produce is so concentrated that a wand submitted to it wouldn't be able to hold it, disintegrating under the immense power."   


Ron opened his mouth to say that _he _hadn't known that, but Hermione cut him off.   


"And you, Adrienne, if I'm not mistaken, use a wand. Has your wand, by any chance, ever disintegrated?"   


Adrienne's silence served as a sufficient answer.   


"Exactly my point. See, you can't be a Perfect."   


Hermione smiled at her proof. Adrienne, on the other hand, frowned. That brought up an interesting concept...she did use her wand, she always had. Adrienne shoved this to the back of her mind, reminding herself that she probably didn't have much more time to try and enlist their aid.   


"You guys have to believe me. That's why Voldemort came to Salem. That's why Professor Mondel," Adrienne shuddered at this, "and all the others died. All because I'm a Perfect."   


"You're delusional!" Hermione declared abruptly.   


Adrienne raised a hand to her head and pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance.   


"Adrienne, you're suffering form survivor's guilt. It's a natural phenomenon and can be expected from someone in your position. You don't have to lie about it," Hermione said in a more soothing tone.   


Adrienne shook her head.   


"And why do I feel guilty? Because I'm a Perfect!"   


"You are not!" Hermione cried.   


"Ok, let's all take a deep breath," Ron suggested, stepping between the two girls who were both wearing murderous faces.   


Adrienne stepped to her left to put Hermione back in her view. She had just opened her mouth to again plead her case when she felt it: Her head quickly became thick, her thoughts weighed down with a familiar haze.   


"He's back," she whispered, her eyes widening in horror.   


Hermione and Harry stared at her, and Ron whipped around. Adrienne's annoyed expression melted form her face, and her friends watched, confused, as she paled.   


"Who's back, Adrienne?" Harry asked cautiously, stepping toward her.   


Adrienne stepped away, shaking her head.   


_'They don't believe you, do they?' _  


'Go away,' Adrienne thought, forgetting that she was still standing in the corridor.   


_'No, I don't think I will.' _  


Adrienne shut her eyes and then snapped them back open, again becoming aware of her surrounding.   


"I'm not lying, Harry," she pleaded, turning her attention to him.  


_'I wouldn't do that if I were you.' _  


"Oh shove off!" Adrienne snapped aloud by mistake.   


***   


Back in his chamber Voldemort, Wormtail cowering behind him, was standing before the corner table, both Adrienne's and his wand in the air, the glittering orb shining once more before him, brighter than ever. His red eyes flitted back to the spellbook lying open on the table.   


"I warned you, child, did I not? I gave you the chance of a lifetime ... but did you accept my gift? No, foolish girl. You will learn not to disobey me in the future."   


Voldemort looked back down at the book.   


"Impuesto," he hissed, and Wormtail shuddered as a flash of blue light filled the dark room.   


***   


And as quickly as the familiar haziness had regained possession of her mind, a new feeling had taken hold of Adrienne. With one swift movement, her entire body relaxed, her mind clearing away all thought, reminding her greatly of how she had felt while under the Imperious Curse the previous year.   


"Adrienne, are you all right?" Ron asked slowly, staring at Adrienne's bemused expression, which reminded Harry greatly of how Ginny looked upon waking in the Chamber of Secrets.   


"No," she said suddenly, blinking rapidly, her face turning to an expression of panic.   


"What is it?" Ron asked. Adrienne's eyes widened.   


"Please believe me, I'm a Perfect," she pleaded.   


Hermione rolled her eyes.   


"Adrienne, enough is enough!" she breathed.  


Adrienne opened her mouth to try again, but, to her amazement, she found herself unable to control what was flowing off her tongue.   


"Fine. Fine! Have it your way! Just leave me alone!" she shouted, and then felt herself turning on her heel and stomping down the corridor.  


Adrienne tried to turn back around, she tried to call out to them, but she couldn't. She shut her eyes suddenly, realizing what was happening...Voldemort had completed the curse.   


"Adrienne!"   


Adrienne kept walking as if she were on casters.   


"Adrienne!"   


Harry put a hand on her shoulder, and she wrenched herself out of his grasp.   


"Leave me alone," she snapped, whipping around to look at him. He took a step back under her glare. "You know what, perhaps I did lie!" Adrienne tried to stop speaking, her mind working in horror at what she was saying. "But that's only because I'm sick of it. Harry Potter this, Harry Potter that. Look at his scar! Let's all bow down and lick the dust from before his feet.... It's famous Harry Potter! Leave me alone."   


Then Adrienne found herself running into her empty dormitory and slamming it shut in his shocked face, her mind screaming that she didn't mean it. She tried to turn around and reopen the door, but her body didn't listen. And then, the haze over her mind lifted just slightly.   


_'Let's get something straight,' _Voldemort's voice resounded in her mind.   


"What did you do!" she said, realizing that she could decide what to say again.   


_'There's new rules, Perfect. You do what I tell you to, when I tell you to.' _  


"Oh yeah? And are you going to stay in my mind the entire time, trying to make sure I follow your little rules?" she asked, fixating her eyes again on Crookshanks.   


_'Don't think that you can just go breaking this curse with your powers. You can't. The strength you need is far beyond what you're capable of.' _  


Adrienne scowled.   


_'They didn't believe you, did they? t told you they wouldn't. And now they'll think you're a liar, trying to get attention. We'll let them think that. And then, when everything is in place, you'll go up to Harry and tell him you want to apologize. He'll follow you and walk right into my trap.' _  


"I'm not helping you," Adrienne growled.   


_'Sit down.' _  


Suddenly Adrienne's feet flew up from beneath her, and she fell to the ground with an almighty thump.   


"OUCH!" she breathed as her tailbone hit the hard wood floor.   


_'Now, you don't have a choice. I tried to make it easier for you. But did you accept it? No, so now you will pay.' _  


Adrienne pursed her lips and clenched her fists.   


"I will not help you. I won't," she whispered.   


Voldemort laughed.   


_'Keep telling yourself that, child, keep telling yourself that. And by the way, you won't mention anything about me, what happened at Salem, this curse, or Perfects to anyone ... you understand that? And if they ask you about being a Perfect, you won't claim that again.' _  


* * *   


When Hermione entered the dormitory, followed by a rather giggly Parvati and Lavender, she found Adrienne to be already in bed, her hangings drawn around her, her formal hanging across the bar above the bed. She shook her head and made her way over to her own bed, gently lifting Crookshanks off the pillow, mindlessly brushing the cat hairs from the pillowcase.   


"Perfect my foot," she mumbled, reaching back and beginning to unzip her dress.   


Hermione pulled on a cotton nightgown and climbed into her warm covers, pulling them up to her neck. She stared up into the ceiling above her, her mind turning over what Adrienne had said, and just as in the corridor, she came up with the same conclusion ... impossible.   


* * *   


"O.W.Ls," Professor McGonagall began Monday morning, staring over her square spectacles at the restless fifth years, who paled dramatically at this announcement.   


Neville let out a small squeak and slid down his seat until only his now sweating forehead appeared behind his desk. Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows at this but continued.   


"The exams will be set for the first week of June. If, as I suggested at the beginning of the year, you have all been diligently working on your review packets - " several students snickered at this.   


"We had review packets?" Adrienne groaned.  


She was sitting alone at the front table, Hermione, Harry, and Ron, several tables back. During the past several weeks, Hermione had been adamant upon Adrienne explaining her odd behavior, and Adrienne, every time she tried, ended up saying something completely different. Just last night Adrienne had again tried to tell them that Voldemort had her under some kind of curse. The only thing she managed to say was a corny story about how she had seen a Muggle fireman fall off the firetruck he was riding as it zoomed down 5th Street in New York City. This had only served to anger Hermione even more and now accounted for why Hermione wouldn't speak to her. And Harry, who now completed believed that Adrienne was in a jealous rage similar to that of Ron's the previous year, refused to speak to her until she acknowledged she was wrong. And poor Ron, torn between his two best friends and his girlfriend, had chosen the ones he had known the longest.   


So, now that they all were refusing to speak to her until she told them the truth, Adrienne, who couldn't do that, had applied herself diligently to her studies, not managing, in a disturbingly impressive way, to improve in any subject. Madam Pince was remarking to the other Professors that Adrienne frequented the library more now than Hermione. This bit of information only served to send several Professors on _fieldtrips _to the library, only to end up in heated debts over how Adrienne could be spending so much time studying and actually have her marks get worse.   


None of their explanations, however, ranging from Snape's thought that all the reading was rotting her already spoilt mind, to Flitwick's thought that Adrienne wasn't studying at all, but only sleeping with her eyes open, came close to the real reason. Adrienne had been spending all her time searching through the library looking for whatever curse she could be under. She hadn't found anything helpful though.   


What was worse was that during dueling practices, her record was becoming very inconsistent. She only won when Voldemort let her, and the other times found herself unable to even yell out a block or a curse. She didn't understand what the point of his doing this was, but she figured it was just to torture her.   


" - then, you should have no problems completing these exams to the best of your given abilities. If, however, you feel that you need extra help in any of your subjects, please come speak with me, and I will assign you an upper-year tutor. Any questions?" finished McGonagall, her eyes now flickering over to Harry's table.   


Hermione was sitting at the edge of her seat, her quill inked and ready to begin taking notes on, by the look of her face, something as world-changing as Africa disappearing off the face of the planet one drizzly summer night. Next to her sat Harry, who looked as if he was trying very hard to keep from screaming out in misery. On Harry's other side, Ron was slouched in his chair, visibly asleep. At the table at the front of the room Adrienne sat with her feet propped up on the table, her Transfiguration book open in her lap, and was muttering spells McGonagall couldn't make out.   


"You _have_ looked at those packets, haven't you?" McGonagall asked slowly, lowering her glasses down the bridge of her nose.   


The majority of the class shifted uncomfortably; Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out a huge binder, Harry pulled out his battered review packet, Adrienne didn't look up from her book, and Ron let out a loud snore.   


"I'm embarrassed by your distinct lack of effort," McGonagall started, her voice low and short.   


"I beg to differ, Professor, _I'm _not lacking in the effort area; it's the talent thing that's got me tarred and feathered," Adrienne said, still not looking up from her text-book.   


She was trying very hard to memorize the steps in Object-Animal Transfigurations. Several chuckles rang through the room, but McGonagall's mouth thinned, if possible, even more.   


"I would have thought that all of you would be taking this seriously. This is an important and perhaps for some of you, career determining, exam, students. Do you realize that these scores will stay with you eternally? One mistake will haunt you forever."   


McGonagall's speech was interrupted by the clock hands ticking to the 12, indicating the end of class.   


"If you haven't started revising, it isn't too late," McGonagall called after the leaving students.   


She sighed and collapsed into the wooden chair behind her desk, shaking her head, and raising a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration.   


* * *   


_"I don't see how she's going to manage this without being prosecuted."   
_

Adrienne turned to look at the redhead who had spoken to her. Adrienne smiled bemusedly and shrugged.   


"I don't know," she replied, turning the final corner on their trip to the Defense classroom.   


"I mean, there is a reason they're illegal," Catherine continued, entwining her fingers nervously in front of her. "She really could get into all sorts of trouble doing this. My dad's an auror. If he knew that she was going to be chasing us around her classroom, screaming 'Imperio' at us, he'd be up in arms! I mean, I'm protesting. This so goes against my Constitutional rights! Whatever happened to the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness?"   


Adrienne rolled her eyes and quickened her pace. Catherine had to be the most annoying girl she had ever met.   


"The Constitution says we have those rights. This Imperious Curse business goes against my right to liberty. A right to liberty means a right to freedom. How can I be free when I have the Imperious Curse on me? Tyranny!" Catherine exclaimed, narrowing her eyes as they reached the open Defense classroom door. "Ouch!"   


Adrienne had stopped abruptly in the middle of the doorway, causing Catherine to run right into her.   


"Sorry," Adrienne said as she turned on her heel to face her classmate, "but, dearest Cat, you forget that we don't technically live under the American government, do we? The government that really controls us is the American Ministry of Magic. I see no relationship between the Capitol Hill government and the one down in the Gallows. The Ministry governs you, and the Ministry gave Professor Hartel permission; she told me last night. So really, get off this patriotic kick."   


Catherine pursed her lips, placing her hands on her hips, and began tapping her foot impatiently.   


"You have no idea - " she began, but Professor Hartel interrupted her.   


"Ah, come in, come in. Once you two take your seats, class will be ready to start," Mia said, walking over from behind her desk.   


She was wearing midnight blue robes and had her wand stuck behind her ear, reminding Adrienne of the school librarian. Adrienne quickly took her seat and sighed as Catherine took the chair next to hers.   


"Communist," Catherine whispered under her breath. Adrienne shook her head and turned her attention to Professor Hartel, who had now seated herself atop her desk and was surveying the anxious fourth-year faces before her.   


"Come now, smile," she said cheerfully, "this is going to be an interesting lesson."   


Around Adrienne, several students smiled weakly, while the boy sitting on her right slowly lowered his hands to his stomach and Catherine raised hers to cross before her chest in a last ditch attempt of protesting.   


"Now, as I told you yesterday, I will be demonstrating the effects of the Imperious Curse on all of you. I do not expect any of you to be able to ward it off. Actually, I'd be quite surprised if anyone did. The strength of this curse makes it very difficult to fight, and the ability to do so only greatens with age and practice. So, I will call on each one of you in turn. You will approach my desk and wait for me to place the curse on you. Once I do, I want you to try your very hardest to fight the curse. I may remind you that this lesson is purely voluntary; however, if you chose not to participate, you will be writing me quite a long research paper on how the Imperious Curse affects the neuron transmissions of the brain."   


"Communist it'll be then," Catherine muttered, obviously agreeing that giving up her' freedom' for a few minutes was more favorable then a crazy research assignment.   


Mia stood up and looked about the room expectantly.   


"So, any volunteers?" she asked, her purple eyes lighting up with excitement as she reached up to grasp her wand. Not one hand raised into the air.   


"Come on now, I promise, it doesn't hurt," she said, pursing her lips slightly.   


She really hated it when no one volunteered. Adrienne cast a quick glance around the room, taking in the defensive faces, and then raised her hand.   


"Miss Miles, I knew you were a brave one," Mia said, motioning for Adrienne to walk up to the front of the room.   


Adrienne took a deep breath and stood up, tossing her wand into her pocket. The class sat with bated breath as Mia and Adrienne faced each other.   


"You ready?" Mia asked, raising her wand and pointing it square between Adrienne's eyes.   


"Curse me," Adrienne said, her voice quite steady, considering she was afraid her legs were going to turn into jelly.   


"Imperio," Mia ordered in a clipped tone.   


The class watched in awe as a short burst of white light sped straight for Adrienne and then disappeared as if it had been absorbed straight into her body.   


"Now, the average wizard can hold off the curse for approximately five seconds after being given an order. Let's see how well Miss Miles will. Miss Miles, bring me the door."   


Mia had said this, thinking that after the five second waiting period, Adrienne would turn and walk over to the door, proving that she was under Mia's control, giving Mia enough time to take the curse off her before she actually did mange to get the door off its hinges. However....   


"Accio!" Adrienne called, having whipped her wand from her pocket immediately after Mia had said "door."   


A second later, standing before Mia was the solid oak door, held up by two sets of fingers on either side. Adrienne, with difficulty, walked forward and handed it to Mia, who raised her hands to prevent it from falling upon her. With a quick, awkward flick of her wand (considering she was now holding up the door too), she removed the curse and Adrienne began to shaker her head, somewhat confused at what had just happened.   


"Wow, two seconds," Catherine called from her seat, looking up from her watch. "I'd say Adrienne is below average then."   


Adrienne glared at her.   


"Some just have more trouble warding off the curse, that's all," Mia said as she put the door magically into place.   


Mia shot a strange look at Adrienne and sent her back to her seat.   


"I could keep it off for ten seconds," Catherine said proudly as she came back from her turn.   


"Oh goodie," Adrienne mumbled, staring around the classroom dejectedly. She had been the only person who had not been able to ward off the curse at all. "This bites," she groaned.   


Adrienne sat up straight in her bed and looked around, her vision blocked by her drawn hangings. Her dream lingered in her head, the words, her feelings, her actions mixing together in her mind. She focused on how she felt while under the Imperious Curse, smiling slightly.   


"It's almost exactly like it...the curses _have _to be related," she whispered, reaching up and rubbing her eyes. "But I couldn't even fight off the Imperious Curse for more than two seconds."   


She sighed and drew her knees to her chest. She knew Voldemort wasn't listening in on her thoughts. She had been able to tell when he was doing that and when he wasn't. When she was alone, her mind seemed less hazed, but she knew from experience that she was still under Voldemort's control, but how, she didn't understand.   


"It doesn't matter if I'm not strong enough. Strength has to be built," she whispered suddenly. "You don't just go out and run a marathon, you have to build up to it. You don't go out and just perform cross-species transfiguration, you have to practice up to it."   


"To break the curse, you have to start small," she whispered, trying to think what Professor Glenn or Hartel would tell her if she could ask them for their help.   


She thought quickly of something small she could do, something, anything. And then it hit her: There was a dueling tournament Saturday. She didn't yet know whether Voldemort would let her win her match or make her lose again.   


"I could really make him angry, make him feel he has to punish me," she whispered. "Make him declare that I'll loose my duel, and then I'll win anyway... I'll show him."   


She smiled at her plan, pushing to the back of her mind the fact that she had no idea how she could win her duel if he had his mind set on her losing; she hadn't been able to attain that at all before. Adrienne lay back against her pillow.   


"Now I just have to make him mad."   


She smiled evilly; getting herself into trouble was her most marketable skill.   


* * *   


"Alright. Three to a tub. Come on, three to a tub."   


Hagrid's voice carried well through the blustery March day. A hint of green was returning to the Hogwarts grounds, and the whistle of the birds in the Forbidden Forest could be heard even out on the Quidditch Field, where the Care of Magical Creatures class was being held.   


Hermione, Harry, and Ron pushed their way toward a nearby tin tub, Harry casting a backwards glance at Adrienne, who, along with Neville and Seamus, was staring down at their covered tub.   


"Now, these fuzzy creatures – don't put yer hand in there, Malfoy - anyone know their name?" Hagrid bellowed.   


Everyone leaned closer to their tubs, looking into them with unsure faces.   


"Caterpillars?" Adrienne called out suddenly.   


"No, Cannipillars, there's a big difference," Hermione corrected.   


"Correct, five points to Gryffindor," Hagrid called out, ignoring Adrienne's scowling face.  


"And why can't we touch them?" Malfoy drawled, kneeling down next to his tub. "They look rather harmless to me."   


"They are if you handle them right. Now what do cannipillars eat?"   


At this Ron wrinkled his nose.   


"Don't they eat animals?" he asked.   


Hagrid nodded and Malfoy laughed.   


"Don't tell me you're afraid of a three inch bug, Weasel. These things couldn't hurt anything," Malfoy said, laughing some more.   


"One couldn't do very much damage," Hermione called out, "but a whole bunch of them could eat you alive."   


At this, Malfoy almost doubled over in hysterics.   


"What fool would just sit back and let a bunch of bugs gnaw on him? You might, but me, I'd just smash them." Malfoy pounded his right fist in his left hand, and behind him, Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles menacingly.   


"You just try that and see what happens," Hagrid said, starting down the two rows of tubs. "Their structure can't be destroyed by physical means. If you stepped on it, it would only piece itself back together and grow even larger. Each time it has to restructure itself, it doubles in size. Beautiful, amazing creatures, don't you think?"   


Hagrid was smiling down warmly at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyles' cannipillar.   


In the back row, Adrienne took a step back form her tub in horror.   


"How _do _you kill them?" she asked in a timid voice.   


"They respond to chemical change, so the best way to kill them would be to place them in an open flame. But why would you want to do that?" Hagrid asked, aghast. "They're perfectly safe if you handle them right. Now. Dragon-hide gloves on..."   


* * *   


It was late Friday night when Adrienne finally left the library, having again found nothing beneficial to her plight. She had looked up everything she could think of concerning the Imperious Curse, hoping to find a reference to a different, more powerful curse. However, to her extreme confusion and disappointment, all she had found were words saying that the Imperious Curse was as the only mental manipulation curse in existence.   


"Adrienne?"   


Adrienne shut the library door behind her and turned around. Professor McGonagall was walking toward her, her scarlet robes billowing.   


"Yes, Professor?" Adrienne said, shifting her potions textbook to hide the book on the Imperious Curse she had just taken. McGonagall stopped before her.   


"Our last dueling tournament is tomorrow," McGonagall began, and Adrienne nodded, reaching up and brushing some loose strands of hair out of her face. McGonagall pursed her lips slightly.   


"What is it Professor?" Adrienne prompted.   


"If we don't win this tournament, we won't make it to the Final Tournament. Considering your less than usual performance in the dueling ring during practices, and also during Professor Lycé's class, I've decided that I'd like to change the line up of competitors tomorrow."   


Adrienne started to frown and then stopped herself.   


"Miss Granger will be dueling first, and Harry, last. I'm sure you understand that it's in the best interest of the team."   


"Of course," Adrienne replied. "No hard feelings at all, Professor. See you tomorrow."   


Adrienne turned and headed down the corridor, pouting slightly. It was tradition that Captains dueled either last or first, never in the middle. She narrowed her eyes.   


"I'll win tomorrow if it kills me," she whispered, "I'll show everyone."   


* * *   


Adrienne lay in her bed well after midnight early Saturday morning, her mind turning things over, and not just thinking about how she was going to make Voldemort mad (during the last several days he had been uncharacteristically patient with her planned rants), but at this specific point in time, Adrienne's mind was more concerned with why McGonagall always wore her hair in a bun. Adrienne was beginning to think that perhaps McGonagall dyed her hair and wore it in a bun to hide her roots. She had just began to contemplate how best to go about seeing if this were true, when she felt her head cloud slightly as another presence took form in it.   


_'Good evening child. My, my, my, you are a night-owl aren't you?' _Voldemort asked slowly, his voice echoing inside her head.   


Adrienne rolled her eyes and sat up suddenly.   


'Perhaps,' she thought, reaching her arms above her to stretch.   


_'There's a duel tonight,' _he said casually.   


'Oh right on with that one. What have you done, memorized my schedule?' she thought torridly.   


Voldemort laughed.   


_'I know things, Adrienne, and when you duel is among the information in which I have educated myself.' _  


Adrienne sighed and slouched.   


'And I'm going to win this duel too,' she said defensively, waiting to see what he would say.   


_'Are you? I hadn't planned on you winning. Actually, I thought you losing again would finally convince you that you can't escape me,' _he replied.   


'I don't care what you think. I'm going to win,' Adrienne replied as sternly as her thoughts could manage.   


_'You'll win only if I let you, and I'm not planning on that.' _  


'Now you listen here,' Adrienne thought slowly, narrowing her eyes and staring at her hangings, 'I'm really sick and tired of this. You know that?" Adrienne laughed slightly and rolled her eyes. 'And I say I'm going to win, and I'm the only one who can decide that. Not you, not the Minister, not anyone. It's my choice. My winning lies solely in my abilities.'   


_'Like it did when you dueled the Ravenclaw girl?' _Voldemort suggested coldly.   


Adrienne narrowed her eyes.   


_'You can't, my child,' Voldemort whispered, 'I promise you, you can't. Try and win your duel. But you forget, don't you? You haven't been able to stop yourself from doing anything I've wanted you to do, have you?' _  


Adrienne shuddered at this; he did have a point.   


'This time it's going to be different,' she thought, pursing her lips.   


_'Child, you won't win. I promise you.' _  


'Fine, it's a bet. You try and make me lose, and I'll try and win; we'll see who's more powerful tomorrow then,' Adrienne thought.   


Back in his chamber, Voldemort glared; he didn't like this new show of courage. It took a great deal of self-control to maintain his patient attitude. He generally despised patience with any disobedient being, and had it not been for the fact that he still needed Adrienne's full cooperation later on, when his plan was finally ready, he would have by now taught her a million times over just what exactly happens to people who cross him. But instead, he took another deep breath and amused himself with what he could do to her, and that infinitesimally maddening brother of hers, after Slytherin's powers had finally been released.  


_'Fine, child. But remember, the time is coming ... remember child,' _and then the voice was gone.   


Adrienne sank back into a lying position, staring up at the top of her canopy. Now that she was sure that Voldemort was indeed planning on keeping her from winning, she had another problem to deal with: How she was actually going to win.   


"He said I'm not strong enough to break the curse," she whispered, and then nodded slightly, agreeing partially with him.   


She had never been strong. Sure, she spent four years learning how to fight with Professor Mondel. He had told her that martial arts procured greater self-confidence and self-worth, something that he had believed would help her with her studies and relatively low self-esteem. Sure, she had spent four years, rain or shine, sick or healthy, running. Professor Sloan had told her that running was more of a mental sport than anything. The key to being a successful runner was using you mind to push you past your physical limits. Whether her professors had actually believed these two activities to really be of any help to her, Adrienne wasn't sure; she was beginning to think they had just devised ways to keep her occupied and thus not creating havoc through the school.   


But other than that, she had always been insecure. She had always been the outcast at 5th Street, the one no one would talk to. At Salem she had always been the clumsy one, except that is, in the dueling ring. Dueling had been the one thing that she was proud of herself for. Professor Hartel had always told her that she was so good at dueling because she had amazing focus.   


"Focus," Adrienne said quietly. "She said I was good because I could block everything else out and just duel. Maybe that's why he can control me so well in the dueling ring, because I'm not even trying to fight his control, I'm just trying to duel. If, perhaps, I focused partly on him..." Adrienne paused to think. He never actually had told her to lose a match, he had just distracted her, making her lose her focus completely. She smiled broadly.   


"It's just like when I dueled against multiple opponents. I split my focus. If I pay attention to my dueling opponent and try and fight off Voldemort, then maybe I can hold his commands at bay until I at least win."   


Adrienne had to admit that this sounded a lot easier than it would likely be, but another thought was floating through her mind: Harry. She felt horrible about how she had treated him. And she felt horrible that now he thought she was a jealous liar.   


She had never expressed her feelings. She had never told him what she had really thought about the revelation about them being twins. She really did like the idea, but couldn't bring herself to publicly acknowledge it. People at the school weren't too thrilled with her lately anyway, and if they found out she was related to Harry, she was afraid they'd even be more assured she was trying to show him up.   


Adrienne rolled over. She had never been very good at expressing her feelings and had just gone about treating Harry as she had before, as a friend. She shut her eyes, remembering the night at King's Cross when he had saved her. She wasn't going to let Voldemort use herself against Harry. If she didn't win this duel, then Voldemort would be right, she would be a complete danger to him. Adrienne didn't like that thought.   


"I have to win," she whispered into her pillow.   


***   


"And welcome to the last dueling tournament before the Final," Neville's voice once again echoed through the Great Hall.   


The entire school was there now, packed into the newly conjured bleachers, staring down at the ring below them, chatting expectantly. None of the duelers had emerged yet. The Gryffindors were in the room that the Tri-Wizard Champions had been called into the previous year. The Hufflepuffs were grouped in the hallway connecting the kitchens and the Great Hall.   


"Alright," Professor McGonagall said, turning around from where she was standing before the fireplace. She was wearing emerald green robes and a stressed expression.   


"You've all been practicing hard. You've all improved so much this year. And whether we lose or win, I want to take the moment to tell you all that I've enjoyed my time working with you immensely. You've all devoted much time and energy into this team, and your accomplishments are well deserved. Thus said, I want you to go out and do your best, enjoy yourself, and if possible, WIN." Professor McGonagall cracked a rare smile. "Yes, let's go out and win."   


Lee Jordan stood up and wiggled his eyebrows.   


"Yes ... team!" he exclaimed, stepping in front of McGonagall and facing his schoolmates. He clasped his hands before him and raised his eyebrows.   


"Go, team, go!" he exclaimed in a very girly voice that sent Ron, Harry, and Samantha into hysterics.   


"Hey, we need some pep!" he called in his defense. "And since none of the traditional cheering types are willing to do this..." he cast a furtive glance at Samantha, who rolled her eyes, then at Hermione, who tried hard not to laugh, and then finally at Adrienne, who was sitting with her back against a wall, her eyes closed.   


"Come on, now, you're pretty peppy, give us a cheer," he said, lunging forward and grabbing Adrienne's hands, which she had resting on her legs.   


He yanked Adrienne up and pulled her to the middle of the room. Her eyes flashed open.   


"I was doing something," she hissed angrily.   


Lee looked at her and grinned.   


"Come on now, I bet some of these here have never seen a good cheer. You look like the type that might know one," he said in a confident voice.   


Adrienne raised an eyebrow.   


"Oh goodie," she muttered, then looking around the room, rolled her eyes and racked her brains for a cheer she had heard while at 5th Street. She couldn't remember one, so, she decided to improvise.   


Adrienne pushed back her shoulders, pursed her lips and then said in a very slow, deliberate and dull, robotic voice:   


"I had a donkey, his name was Fred  


Lee dropped his smile and narrowed his eyes: what kind of cheer is that? What does a donkey have to do with dueling?  


Adrienne shrugged and stopped signing. I've never cheered before.  


"Fine, so Miles isn't the right type of girl," he grumbled, turning around, realizing that his attempt to lighten the nervous mood had failed miserably.   


Adrienne promptly collapsed onto the ground, drawing her knees up to her chest, closing her eyes, and sitting there.   


"And the winner of tonight's duel will be facing off with Ravenclaw in the Finals later on in the year," Neville was continuing to commentate, and watched with great interest as the judges, Dumbledore at the head of the procession, filed in and took their places at the High Table: It was almost time to begin.   


"And I think, yes, I'm sure," Neville began, watching as Dumbledore nodded his head to Professor Sinistra, who was standing next to the doors that led to the rooms that held the two teams. "And here they come ... the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Primary Dueling Teams!"   


The two doors opened and the teams filed out, McGonagall leading the Gryffindors, Hermione following behind her. The two lines walked towards the dueling circle, the Gryffindors arcing toward the right and the Hufflepuffs taking the left, each heading toward their seats.   


This time, however, it was Hermione who took the first chair, her eyes flitting nervously toward the dueling circle. Next to her sat a green looking Rodney Nells, and next to him, Ron. Adrienne sat in the sixth chair, and Harry, in the last.   


"And dueling first are Hermione Granger for Gryffindor and Hufflepuff co-Captain, Jessica Clearwater," Neville announced.   


Adrienne turned in her chair and sent a shaky thumbs up to Hermione. Hermione took a deep breath and saluted herself into the ring, staring with a suppressed look of confidence at short little Jessica, who was staring at Hermione as if she were a bull ready to charge.   


"Face your opponent," Dumbledore called from the High Table.   


Hermione fixed Jessica with a piercing stare, then bowed when Dumbledore instructed them to.   


"On my mark; three, two, one, mark!"   


A blinding flash of orange light burst into the air as Jessica sent her first curse sailing towards Hermione. Hermione sidestepped it, raising her wand, and with a slight flick of her risk and a quick shout of, "Tarantellegra," began her counter-attack.   


Jessica blocked this easily, stepped backwards, and began circling the ring, sending curses Hermione's way left and right. Adrienne nodded her approval of Jessica's dueling style and crossed her fingers tighter in hopes that Hermione would keep up the excellent effort. She did. Finally, as Jessica stumbled, crossing a foot behind her as she made her way around the ring's circumference, Hermione called out, "Expelliarmus," and deftly caught Jessica's wand. Once Hermione had exited the ring, Adrienne congratulated her on her win, smiling hopefully.   


"Thanks," Hermione replied, and not saying anything else, retook her seat.   


Adrienne leaned back in her chair and shut her eyes. She slowly envisioned a dueling ring in her mind, and inside it, she pictured herself, facing a faceless opponent. Adrienne watched her imaginary self salute, raise her wand, and begin to duel.   


She kept her eyes closed, oblivious to what was going on around her, completely missing Rodney's, Samantha's, and Ron's duels. She was taking slow, deep breaths, trying to calm the butterflies that were in her stomach. This wasn't just a normal duel anymore, it now more resembled a plain coin-toss. If Adrienne won, she would prove to herself and to Voldemort that she couldn't be controlled, but if she were to lose ... Adrienne really didn't want to think of that.   


"Adrienne," Harry whispered, tapping her shoulder.   


Adrienne opened her eyes and turned. Harry leaned closer to her.   


"You're next, Lee has to be almost done," he said.   


Adrienne turned to attention to the ring to where Lee was bouncing about, shooting off curses with elaborate flicks of his wrists.   


"What's the score?" Adrienne asked.   


"4-0, they can't win, we have it," Harry whispered back, his face lighting up: They were going on to the finals. This had seemed to override Harry's first desire to still wait for Adrienne to apologize.   


"Well then, that takes a lot of pressure off you, doesn't it Mr. I'm-Dueling-Last-Just-In-Case-We-End-Up-With-Another-Tied-Game," Adrienne whispered back, smiling slightly.   


Harry raised an eyebrow.   


"And it takes the pressure off you too," he added.   


Adrienne didn't look at him, but shook her head.   


"No," she whispered hoarsely.   


Harry was about to inquire further when Lee stunned Hannah Abbott and raised her wand victoriously into the air.   


"Well, that's that," Adrienne thought, standing up, "the moment of reckoning; the test of wills; the abilities of the cat versus the mouse. She stopped ranmbling and then, holding her head high, her fingers gripping her wand tightly, she started walking toward the ring.   


"Good luck, Miles," Samantha whispered.   


"Yeah, Yank, give it to them," Lee shouted at her.   


Adrienne snapped herself to attention, her entire mind focused on only the dueling ring, the entire audience completely blocked out.   


_'We'll see how you manage this one, Perfect,' _Voldemort whispered to her as she took her place opposite Monica Brizentine. Adrienne raised an eyebrow at Monica and Monica gulped.   


"Opponents, bow," Dumbledore said.   


Adrienne bowed quickly, her eyes piercing Monica, searching for a weakness.   


_'You do realize that every time you duel your spells issue before you're ...' _  


'Stating the obvious again? I thought you would have had better material,' she thought.   


_'They'll know you're a Perfect. They'll see you as the threat you are. You're not strong enough to really handle the complications of the Art. They know you'll either join the Dark Side or go crazy trying not to,' _Voldemort hissed.   


"On my mark, three, two, one, mark!"   


"Punzada!" Adrienne shouted, aiming her wand at Monica. Monica missed the block and tried to step out of the curses' way, but was to slow. The curse hit her left arm and she screamed as stabbing pain bled through her arm. Monica clenched her jaw and then threw a curse Adrienne's way.   


Adrienne blocked it expertly, and had it not been for the fact that she was trying to carry on a conversation and duel at the same time, she would have disarmed Monica. But, she couldn't just ignore Voldemort and duel because she thought she had some idea of how this curse (although she still didn't know what it was) he had been talking about worked. When she just let him speak to her, her mind itself began to agree with what he said, but if she made a conscious attempt to try and contradict it, she could fight him off longer.   


_'And once they find out you're a Perfect and they realize that thus you are responsible for the deaths at the Gallows, you'll be an outcast. A murderer.' _  


Adrienne bit her lip and then yelled, "Expelliarmus."   


Jessica blocked it. Adrienne sent another curse her way and lunged towards her right to avoid the Stunning charm.   


_'Give up, you can't beat me. Join me, Adrienne,' _Voldemort hissed.   


'Right, that's it,' she thought.   


"Petrificus Totallus!" she screamed.   


Jessica blocked this one too.   


_'Perhaps if you continue to be this troublesome, I'll have to teach you a lesson,' _Voldemort hissed again.   


'I thought cursing me for real was your idea of a lesson taught," she thought, rolling her eyes.   


She tried again to stun Jessica, but to no avail...   


Voldemort leaned back in his chair and watched the duel before him on the image that was portrayed between the two wands he was holding. He tightened his grip and smiled.   


"Impuesto," he said again, deciding that perhaps the curse needed to be reapplied to her...   


"Anoptico," Adrienne declared, shooting blue sparks at Jessica...   


"Next time she tries to stun you, you won't block it," Voldemort spoke aloud in his chamber. In the dark corner, Lucius and Wormtail watched with interest...   


'Nice try,' Adrienne thought.   


"Serpensortia!" she called.   


A large black snake shot from her wand and advanced on Monica. Monica didn't even blink, she just pointed her wand at it and transfigured it into a fly, and then with lightening precision, turned her wand back to Adrienne.   


"Stupefy!" Jessica yelled, her face set.   


Adrienne opened her mouth to block it, but nothing came out. Her mind screamed at her to move, but her muscles didn't respond, and then, as victorious laughter rang through her skull, everything went black.   


* * *   


The entire Great Hall lapsed into silence as Adrienne fell to the ground, her wand falling beside her. Monica raised a proud eyebrow and walked forward, bent down to pick up Adrienne's, and raised it victoriously into the air.   


"And at this rate, Adrienne Miles will not be retaining her International Underage Dueling title at this summer's championship," Neville announced into the still silent room.   


Monica lowered Adrienne's wand and then took a step toward the unconscious girl.   


"Ennervate," she whispered.   


Adrienne slowly shook her head, and cracked open her eyes, wondering why she was lying on the ground in the Great Hall. Then suddenly she understood and she pressed her eyes closed in horror: She had lost.   


_'Do you believe me now, girl? Do you?'   
_

The words echoed in her aching head, a bruise beginning to form where her head had hit the stone floor. Adrienne took a few deep breaths, a horrible feeling beginning to form in her gut: She had lost.   


_'Commendable effort, really, it was. But unfortunately, it just wasn't enough. Just think, I could make you do anything, couldn't I? Right now, if I wanted to, I could tell you to kill Potter.' _  


Adrienne took another deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut even tighter. He was right. He had been right the entire time. She wasn't strong enough. There was nothing she could do, there was nothing she'd be able to do. Adrienne's eyes snapped open, an intense anger coursing through her. She was angry with Voldemort for putting her in such a predicament. She was angry with Hermione, Harry, and Ron for not believing her. She was angry with McGonagall for not letting her duel when she was supposed to as a Captain. She was angry with Monica for beating her. But most of all she was angry with herself for not being able to solve her own problem.   


Adrienne snapped her eyes open and jumped up, glaring maliciously at Monica. Monica held out her hand for Adrienne to take, but she didn't. Instead she walked straight up to the girl, grabbed back her wand, and then strode from the ring, not even saluting herself out. She didn't care if she looked like a poor loser. The entire school was going to think she had thrown the match anyway, since she hadn't even been able to attempt to block the Stunning Charm. What did it matter if they thought she was a baby about it too? No one, not even McGonagall, made an effort to go after her.   


"And dueling last is Harry Potter for Gryffindor and Taytum Kalinski for Hufflepuff."   


Neville's words followed Adrienne into the Entrance Hall, although muffled slightly. She stopped in the middle, taking a deep breath.   


_'Child, just give up. Stop fighting it. Just accept your purpose,' _Voldemort hissed.   


"No," Adrienne snapped, shaking her head.   


"No," she repeated softer, shutting her eyes, a helpless feeling entering her heart, only serving to make her more angry.   


Behind her she heard the creak of a hinge and turned to see who had left the tournament. Draco Malfoy, followed by Crabbe and Goyle exited, laughing and muttering something Adrienne couldn't make out. Once the doors shut behind them, they looked up, surprised to see her standing there. Adrienne quickly reached up and brushed away the tears that were beginning to streak down her face.   


"What are you looking at?" she demanded coldly.   


Malfoy smirked.   


"Hmm, it seems to me you've lost again," he drawled, his gray eyes glittering menacingly. "Always knew you were worthless. And I thought you were some kind of hot shot dueler. Unstoppable. Undefeatable."   


"Oh, go jump off a cliff," she said with a venomous tone.   


"Crying, eh? Why, because you can't do anything right?" Malfoy continued. Crabbe and Goyle stood dumbly behind him. "At least you're worth more than your scar-head friend."   


Adrienne's eyes narrowed at this.   


"Can I ask a favor? When you're dueling at the Final, do that again. Play dumb like that and just let your opponent curse you. That way hopefully Gryffindor won't be winning. I bet you never thought that when you came here you'd be the downfall of the team, eh? Almost like a traitor. They trusted you because you were some famous dueler, and you betray them all by throwing your matches..."   


Whatever Draco was going to say, he never finished. Perhaps it was because Adrienne was already in a horrible mood. Perhaps it was because that was along the same lines as what Voldemort had been telling her; that she'd betray everyone. But whatever it was, Adrienne lost her temper.   


It happened much too fast for Draco to see it coming. In an instant Adrienne had covered the space between them and had slammed her fist into his face. Draco stumbled backward into Crabbe and Goyle. He raised his hand to his face and wiped away blood.   


"Why you little," he began and then lunged at her, throwing an awkward punch her way. Adrienne's left arm shot up, pushing his punch to the side. Then she quickly rolled her wrist around and grabbed his forearm, pulling him towards her and shoving the heel of her palm into his solarplexes, causing him to double over as the wind flew out of him. She let go of his arm and stepped back, watching him straighten and the glare at her.   


At Malfoy's command Crabbe rushed forward and Adrienne turned, sending her foot flying backward into his chest and then flipped back around to watch him fly back with an "Umph."   


Malfoy, fully recovered now, and still smarting about his face, lunged at her again, and this time, Adrienne, who was thoroughly enjoying the irrational therapeutic effects of hitting something, punched him again, not as hard as before, just hard enough that he'd bruise really well later. This time Goyle came at her, arms raised and she jumped out of his way, sending him rushing back behind her, confused at her sudden _disapperance _.   


Crabbe, reached into his robes and pulled out his wand, which Adrienne immediately kicked away and then turned her attention back to Malfoy, who was calling her every foul name he could possibly think of. Crabbe turned around and ran back into the Great Hall, quite unknown to Adrienne.   


Harry and Taytum were just shaking hands, Taytum congratulating Harry on his win, when Crabbe's scream of "Fight!" echoed through the room. Usually the announcement of "Duel!" was the one to occasionally ring through the Hall, but "Fight!" was a rarity. In an instant the students took to their feet and made a mad rush toward the door, Professors McGonagall and Snape the next to follow, each drawing their wands.   


"Excuse me," Professor McGonagall called, pushing through the throngs of students trying desperately to get toward the doors to see the fight.   


"OUT OF THE WAY!" bellowed Snape, elbowing every student within reach.   


Finally, the two professors, the rest of the professors on the way, made it to the front of the crowd. In the middle of the Entrance Hall stood Adrienne and Draco, who was currently struggling to release his neck from her arms and simultaneously, and not rather successfully, trying to dodge whatever new swipe at his head that she managed to throw in as an extra. Malfoy's eyes flashed with relief when he spotted Snape, but Adrienne seemed to be in a blind rage, oblivious to everything except her irrational urge to hit something.   


"Miss Miles!" McGonagall called, walking through the door.   


Adrienne leapt into the air and caught the side of Goyle's head, who had just lunged at her from behind, in a kick, sending him crumpling to the ground. Now there was only Malfoy, who was bleeding professedly from his nose and other scrapes on his face.   


Malfoy narrowed his eyes, obviously embarrassed and again, tried in vain to hit her. This time Adrienne grabbed his arm stepped to the side and swung him to the ground, pulling his arm behind him. She stood there, breathing heavily, smiling slightly. She felt a lot better now. McGonagall took this moment to rush forward, her eyes flashing, and grab Adrienne by the arms, yanking her backwards. Snape too approached and pulled Draco off the ground, holding him up opposite Adrienne.   


Adrienne's eyes widened in shock, her mind beginning to work, the reality of the situation finally coming to terms with her.   


"Miss Potter!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed, letting go of her and spinning her around to look at her. "What are you doing!"   


Adrienne didn't say anything, her jaw just dropped, and she began to shake her head.   


"Explain yourselves!" McGonagall snapped, her eyes moving from Adrienne to Malfoy's bloody face.   


A livid bruise was forming around his left eye, and he was moaning in pain, looking like the only thing keeping him standing was Professor Snape.   


"That, that_ monster_, she just out and attacked me. She tried to kill me!" Draco moaned.   


Adrienne didn't say anything in her defense. Her breath was coming in short, panicking breaths, and she dropped to the floor, unable to stand anymore.   


"What is going on here?" Professor Dumbledore had now made his way into the Entrance Hall and was looking with a sad expression about the room.   


Adrienne's eyes fell shut and she brought her knees to her chest, rested her forehead upon them, and began to cry.   


"She attacked me, Headmaster. She tried to kill me!" Draco moaned again.   


"Miss Potter, is this true?"   


Slowly, through the crowd of students craning their necks from within the Great Hall, whispers of "Potter?" floated among them. Adrienne slowly raised her head and sniffed.   


"I didn't mean it. I didn't mean to. It just, it just happened," she whispered.   


Back a few feet into the crowd, Parvati and Lavender smiled in extreme delight.   


***   


"I swear, one minute she was glaring at Draco, and the next she was pummeling him like there was no tomorrow," Fred said, leaning back in his chair in the middle of the common room. He and George had been the first to make it to the Entrance Hall when "Fight!" was announced.   


"You should have seen the look on her face. It was something else, almost as if someone was trying to kill her and she was fighting for her life," George added.   


Harry turned his back from the discussion taking place.   


"What's taking so long?" Ron said, looking down at his watch. Hermione put her elbows on the table and propped up her head.   


"Of all the stupid things she could have done," Hermione sighed, "this is it. Dumbledore told her if she got in another fight she'd be expelled."   


"You don't think he'd really do that, do you?" Ron asked quickly, his face contorting into a worried expression.   


Hermione shook her head, rubbing her temple as if she had a horrendous headache, which she did.   


"Rules are rules. I can't see her getting out of this one," she sighed.   


Harry didn't say anything; he just sat and listened. Something was bothering Adrienne, and he wished she'd just come out and say what it was. He sighed and leaned back in his chair. Perhaps they shouldn't have gotten mad at her like that, she was having a hard year. Bullocks to that, he thought. He had had worse years. His second year everyone thought him to be the one turning students into stone. And just last year he had to participate in that mad Tri-Wizard Tournament. Her year hadn't been half as bad as that.   


The sound of the portrait hole snicking open drew him from his reverie, and he quickly turned his chair to see who had entered.   


Adrienne stepped through the portrait hole. Her head was hung low and Harry couldn't see her face, but he didn't need to. Behind her, Professor McGonagall stepped through. Her face was furious and she her eyes were glaring. A murmur drifted through the common room as Adrienne and McGonagall walked through. As Adrienne passed them, she lifted her head and looked at Harry with red, puffy, tear-stained eyes. But once her eyes met his, she quickly looked away. No one spoke to her as she passed them, nor did she say anything, but as she began her ascent up the spiral staircase, Harry, Hermione, and Ron stood up in unison, and followed after in a hurried step.   


When Harry arrived at the 5th year girl's dormitory, Adrienne and McGonagall were already in there. Professor McGonagall was standing by Adrienne's four-poster and was watching, with her arms crossed, Adrienne heave her trunk atop her bed. Adrienne then walked around her bed to her bedside cabinet, which she yanked open. Hermione and Ron had now too entered the room and were standing slightly behind Harry.   


Adrienne pulled out her broom and tossed it into her trunk. She did the same with her schoolbooks and her clothes. She wasn't even placing them in nicely, and every once in a while, Adrienne would miss her trunk entirely and send something flying into the middle of the room. After Adrienne's running shoes landed on Lavender's bed, Harry took a few steps forward and picked the up, and then slowly made his way over to Adrienne's trunk and placed them inside it. Adrienne didn't notice this, and was currently lying on her stomach and reaching for a pair of pajamas under her bed.   


"You can't go, Adrienne," Ron said as she slammed her trunk shut.   


Adrienne ignored him and took one final look around her four-poster. She looked quickly at Professor McGonagall and nodded.   


"So, you're just going to leave, is that it?" Hermione asked, striding forward.   


"If you'll excuse us, Miss Granger, Miss Potter has a port-key waiting for her," Professor McGonagall said, pulling out her wand with intentions of charming Adrienne's trunk to make it feather-light. Hermione stood rooted to her spot, her eyes flickering from Adrienne, who was still wearing her black school robes and was currently staring at her feet, to the trunk that Professor McGonagall was levitating off the bed.   


"You can't go," Hermione said urgently, forgetting that she was still angry with her. "Professor, please, don't make her leave."   


Harry stared at the scene before him. Adrienne still wasn't looking up, and he had a funny feeling that she was tired of begging and had given up.   


"The decision has already been made, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said curtly.   


"We're talking about Draco Malfoy here, Professor," Harry exclaimed, stepping forward. "He must have done something to make her attack him."   


Professor McGonagall's face softened slightly and Harry knew she had already explored this idea already.   


"The only witnesses were Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle," she began, looking away. "They both say that Adrienne started it."   


"So we're going on heresy?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.   


"Come along, Miss Potter," Professor McGonagall said, choosing to ignore Hermione's comment.   


Adrienne began to walk forward, not looking up. She was too angry to look up, too afraid. She was angry with everyone because they didn't understand what was really happening. She was angry with Hermione, Harry, and Ron because they hadn't believed her in the first place. She was angry with herself because she couldn't explain what was happening. She was angry with Voldemort for torturing her like this. And then, she was afraid. She was afraid what the Professors at Salem would say when she arrived. She was afraid what Hermione, Harry, and Ron now thought about her, even though she didn't think their opinions of her could really get any worse. She walked by them without saying goodbye. She was too embarrassed by her own behavior to even face them now, not to mention that she wanted to give each of them a good pop round the head for believing her to be a liar.   


"You're taking a port-key?" Ron asked, trying to get Adrienne's attention. "But I thought they taught apparation earlier there. I thought you knew how to Apparate?"   


Adrienne stopped in the doorway and gave a hollow laugh.   


"That's advanced transfiguration. I still haven't really mastered the first year curriculum," she said blandly without turning around.   


Adrienne and McGonagall left the room in silence.   


***   


Harry slowly stepped back form the window once Adrienne's form had finally vanished. Hermione was sitting on Adrienne's old bed, sniffling slightly. Ron was standing in the corner, his arms crossed.   


"She could have at least said good-bye," he said angrily.   


Hermione sighed and looked up at Harry with blurring eyes.   


"Perhaps we shouldn't have gotten mad at her," Harry suggested dulling, walking towards Hermione.   


Hermione shook her head slowly.   


"No, she should have told us what was going on, we might have been able to help her," she said ruefully.   


"I can't believe she left without saying good-bye," Ron said, voicing his main concern at the moment.   


"I can't believe she left, period," Harry answered.   


The three lapsed into silence and stood awkwardly in the dark room.   


***   


Light began to materialize around her, swirling dizzily. Adrienne pulled herself off the ground and stared up at the Salem Entrance Gates. Around her, the trees of the forest were still brown and dead. No greens had begun to take route. She turned around and stared down the path that led to the Gallows. In the distance, she could see partial white, marble buildings: what had been accomplished thus far in the reconstruction of the American Ministry and the Gallows. Adrienne shuddered slightly in the early afternoon breeze.   


_'WHAT DID YOU DO!' _  


Adrienne had been wondering when Voldemort was going to realize that she had been returned to Salem. Despite her foul mood, she laughed slightly: This had to put some sort of horrible kink in his plan.   


"And it's all _your _fault," she replied aloud, turning around in the path, taking in the familiar surroundings.   


_'You will pay dearly for this, Perfect,' _Voldemort spat.   


"You leave me alone," she whispered dangerously, narrowing her eyes, feeling quite a bit more confidant after her romp with Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.   


' _Don't you threaten me,' _Voldemort hissed, his tone the lowest she had ever heard it.   


Adrienne blinked several times.   


"Fine, have it your way." And with that she turned on her heel and began to march slowly up toward Salem, levitating her trunk behind her, her black Hogwarts robes whipping around her legs in the breeze.   


"Oh, I'm in for it now," she whispered, suddenly more afraid of what she'd meet when she reached the school, than she was of what Voldemort might do to her.   


She had the funny feeling as if his grasp, his control of her, was weaker. She had no idea why, but the longer she remained angry (though she had calmed down significantly from the last time that she had hit Draco) the easier it felt to stand up to him. She made a mental note to keep that in mind, and then took a deep breath and pushed the gates to the Salem grounds open.   


  
**  
**


	29. What Professor Trelawney Saw

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 29: What Professor Trelawney Saw**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Adrienne let the gates clink shut behind her and stopped to look around the grounds. Up ahead of her lay the castle, standing tall against the gray afternoon sky. Adrienne shivered suddenly, an intense feeling of foreboding running down her spine. She looked down at her watch.   
  
"Classes are still in session," she muttered and then started up the lawn, dragging her feet and humming the funeral march, feeling suddenly quite uncharacteristically pessimistic.   
  
As she neared the castle, she half expected the doors to fly open and Professor Bell to stomp from the building, positively infuriated. This didn't happen. Now Adrienne stood before the large doors and leaned to her left, attempting to stare through the mullioned window. She thought she saw someone shuffle by, but she wasn't sure.   
  
"Do I just walk in and announce 'Guess what, I've been expelled!'" she whispered, "or do I sneak in and pretend nothing's happened?"   
  
Adrienne looked around, wondering if she should even go back at all no, that wouldn't get her anywhere. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open, sticking her head through the crack as sneakily as she could, preparing herself to pull it back out if someone was waiting for her. No one was there. Adrienne sighed and pushed the door all the way open and trudged through. The bright, marble floored entrance hall gleamed even with the sun's weak rays penetrating the clouds, and Adrienne wondered, a small smirk playing on her face, which unlucky student had been forced to wash the floors as a punishment.   
  
She walked as silently across the entrance hall as she could, trying to keep her shoes from clicking, although this was impossible to fully achieve. She levitated her trunk ahead of her, thanking the fact that levitation was something she had mastered, because her trunk was too heavy for her to carry long distances.   
  
The classrooms were full and, as Adrienne walked through the empty corridors, taking the all too familiar route that would lead to the dormitories, her eyes flitted through the door windows, trying to make out what years were being instructed.   
  
She had almost reached the stairwell that lead to the dormitories when her presence was finally noticed. One of the Potions laboratories stood between her and the stairwell. Adrienne crept by the classroom without looking in and had almost reached the stairwell when she had the sudden urge to see what Professor Glenn was doing. She doubled back, her Hogwarts robes billowing behind her. Adrienne ducked down beneath the classroom door window, placed her fingertips on the window frame, and slowly raised her head, inching it up.   
  
"Now, taking the powdered root of Asphodel." Professor Glenn was standing behind a bubbling cauldron, holding a stone bowl and mortar in his hand. His eyes roved around the classroom, making sure everyone was paying attention to this essential part. His eyes stooped at the door, widening in surprise. A head was rising in the window, a shifty expression adorning the face. And suddenly, as the bright green eyes met his, he realized who it was.   
  
"Adrienne?"   
  
Professor Glenn dropped the bowl in surprise, not realizing it had fallen into the cauldron.   
  
"Uh oh," Adrienne murmured, dropping her head below the window. "Note to self, do not pursue a career as a spy."   
  
Adrienne heard footsteps. Then the door flew open and Adrienne, crouched on the ground, her trunk floating awkwardly behind her, found herself staring into the bottom of Professor Glenn's robe. She slowly raised her head and then straightened up, smiling awkwardly.   
  
"Oh hi, Professor, fancy meeting you here," she stuttered, her face completely expressionless in her surprise.   
  
Professor Glenn raised an eyebrow.   
  
"Yes, fancy meeting _you here_," he said, taken aback.   
  
"Yes, well, just taking a visit, a visityes," she muttered, nodding her head.   
  
Professor Glenn raised his other eyebrow.   
  
"Umm, Professor?" a slightly panicky voice called from behind him, and he turned.   
  
"Miss Lessie?"   
  
A brunette girl behind him was staring, her horrified eyes fixed before her.   
  
"What did you say about adding powdered root of Asphodel to a potion?" Her voice was somewhat muffled, as if it were caught in her throat.   
  
"You shouldn't add it to a boiling potion. It must cool first," he started.   
  
"And adding it to a boiling potion"   
  
"It blows things up," Adrienne answered a little too quickly, before becoming very interested in her shoes.   
  
There was a sudden burst of movement and scrape of chairs as the entire class jumped to a standing position.   
  
"What's this all about?" Professor Glenn asked quickly as a mad rush was made for the door.   
  
Erica Lessie grabbed the sleeves of both Glenn's and Adrienne's robes and yanked them through the door, slamming it shut behind them.   
  
"What is going on?" Joe demanded in a clipped tone, glaring at his students.   
  
Then, a loud popping noise and the bang of a cauldron hitting something hard could be heard. Professor Glenn whipped around and looked through the miraculously intact window. The entire room was black, several chairs and desks lying in strips of wood on the floor.   
  
"I didn't blow up your lab this time, Professor. This was all _your _doing," Adrienne said hastily, reaching up and smoothing down the hair that she had into two lopsided pigtails.   
  
Professor Glenn slowly turned around, wearing an expression as if he suddenly had a terrible headache. His entire class was staring at him, clearly shaken, several girls sniffling.   
  
"Well, perhaps this was a sign that class was to be released early today" he started, trying very hard to control his temper. So, class dismissed."   
  
Adrienne turned and tried to blend in as much as possible while wearing black robes amid the sea of green and levitating her trunk ahead of her.   
  
"Not you!" Joe grabbed the collar of her robes and pulled her back. "Why are you here, Adri. Do _they_ know you're here?" he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.   
  
Adrienne turned around and snapped her fingers, letting her trunk fall to the ground with a thump.   
  
"Oh they know I'm here all right," she drawled, but the faint click of heels in the distance distracted her.   
  
"What happened? They said there was an explosion. Joe, are you all right?"   
  
Adrienne turned to see Mia striding toward them, her royal blue robes flying behind her, her face screwn up into a worried expression. Her eyes were fixated on Joe as if she were afraid he might fall over dead, but it didn't take her long to notice Adrienne standing there. Mia stopped in her tracks, her jaw falling open suddenly, and then raised a hand to her mouth.   
  
"Adrienne?" and then, "Adrienne!" Mia broke into a run, racing toward her to scoop her into a hug. "Oh sweetheart, what are you doing here? Are you all right?" she asked hastily, pulling back and grabbing Adrienne's face in her hands as if inspecting her for injuries.   
  
Joe stepped forward, scowling slightly. "What happened to, 'Oh, Joe, are you all right?'" he said in monotone, pursing his lips.   
  
"Oh, Joe, are you all right?" Mia repeated quickly, looking up at him and dropping her hands to rush toward her husband.   
  
"What happened?" she exclaimed, looking past Joe into the burnt classroom, and then she slowly turned to look at Adrienne. "Adrienne, you weren't playing with matches again, were you?"   
  
Playing with Muggle incendiary tools are the least of her problems."   
  
A new voice had entered the conversation, one that made Adrienne's blood run cold. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. She could tell by the sound and rhythm of the approaching footsteps and the sound of the voice. Adrienne winced as if someone had brandished a whip at her, and then, taking a deep breath, turned.   
  
Professor Bell was now marching down the corridor, her graying hair tied into a knot at the very top of her head, her large spectacles hanging from a chain around her neck, her burgundy robes flowing ominously behind her.   
  
"Explain, Adrienne," she clipped, upon reaching the group.   
  
"What's she talking about?" Mia whispered to Joe, leaning closer to him. He shrugged.   
  
"Oh hi, Professor Bell, what a splendid day, don't you think? I mean, discounting the unfortunate Root of Asphodel incident, but, nevertheless, you must agree that the weather is completely tolerable, and the mere fact that we are all in outstanding health goes to show"   
  
"You are positively correct," Professor Bell began, crossing her arms before her. "I was having a most splendid day, and was just recently sitting at my desk, minding my own business, contemplating my very splendid day, when an owl flew through my window, knocking over my very favorite vase – you know the one, Adrienne, the one from Italy - "   
  
Adrienne nodded.   
  
"And what do you suppose was in this letter that I received on my formerly splendid day?" Professor Bell asked, her face extremely tight.   
  
"You've won that _Encyclopedia of Ancient Russian Wizard Artifacts _that you've so wanted?" Adrienne suggested, smiling hopefully.  
  
"No, try again."   
  
"You received a letter saying that the Ministry has been underpaying you for the past thirty years, and you're receiving a 50% pay increase in compensation?" Adrienne suggested, taking a step backward.   
  
Professor Bell shook her head. "No, wrong again. I'll give you a hint. It was from a certain Headmaster at a certain school where a certain somebody did not seem to be having a splendid day. "   
  
"Nope, no idea what you're talking about. But, if you'll excuse me, Professor Bell, I really need to go visit that dormitory of mine. Knew you wouldn't mind."   
  
Adrienne turned around and smiled merrily at Mia and Joe, who were both wearing an expression mixed between curiosity and skepticism.   
  
"No, you won't be visiting your dormitory quite yet, Adrienne."   
  
Adrienne stopped, rolled her eyes, and turned.   
  
"What is going on?" Mia asked, stepping forward, looking from Adrienne, whose eyes were desperately searching for the nearest exit, to Professor Bell, who looked as if she could chew nails.   
  
"Ask your little friend here," Professor Bell snapped darkly.   
  
Mia cast an anxious glance at Joe and then walked forward to look at Adrienne.   
  
"Adri, what's she talking about?" she asked slowly.   
  
"It just keeps getting worse and worse" Adrienne moaned softly, her head beginning to ache.   
  
Voldemort had left her alone since the forest, but she already knew she wouldn't be able to tell them anything. She didn't even want to start this again. It was hard enough trying to explain to Dumbledore when she couldn't even say the facts, but now to Bell, Glenn, and Hartel, whom she had always told everything. She shook her head and let her eyes fall shut, completely giving up.   
  
"Bite me," she said, her eyes snapping open, and then she turned, not bothering to grab her trunk, and ran the few feet to the stairwell, disappearing within it before anyone could stop her.   
  
"Well, that doesn't happen everyday," Joe said, his eyes lingering where Adrienne had just stood. "So, what she do? I'm assuming she finally blew up old Snape's lab for me? Come on, Julia, this is Adrienne we're talking aboutshe'd never do anything to make you this mad well, at least not on purpose."   
  
Professor Bell raised a graying eyebrow. "Oh really? Well, since she's the closest thing you have to a daughter, Joe, you can punish her. How you see fit to deal with her expulsion from Hogwarts is fine with me."   
  
"Expulsion?" Mia asked slowly, her purple eyes widening.   
  
"Expulsion!" Joe laughed. "For blowing up Snape's lab! Ridiculous!"   
  
"Read the letter, and I hope you hadn't planned on having a splendid day. Joe, Mia, I'm going back to my office to piece together my vase, and toast the owl give the house elves some new meat to work with tonight."   
  
Mia looked down at the letter, the Hogwarts seal on the back, which she was now holding. She handed it to Joe and then slowly looked up. "Expulsion?" she questioned.   
  
Joe pursed his lips in deep thought, momentarily forgetting what Julia had said about Adrienne. "Owl for dinner OWL? Now I object!" he exclaimed.   
  
**

* * *  
  


**Adrienne's old dormitory hadn't changed in the least. It was still horrendously messy, clothing strewn all around, shoes laying unmatched upon the floor. Along the stone walls were posters of Muggle and Wizarding fame alike. They were held up with Spellotape, which was beginning to peal from the wall. As the door slammed shut, a large flashy poster of Gilderoy Lockhart, who had been smiling what he must have thought to be a dashing smile, fluttered to the ground, as the Spellotape had finally expended its sticky life. Adrienne didn't bother to restick Lockhart to the wall for one of her roommates, Kalista; although she did have the sudden urge to mourn his fall she had always found him to be quite handsome.   
  
The back corner was the only clean part of the large room. The bed had a dark blue cover and, unlike its counterparts, had no clipped pictures of young men or boyfriends adorning it. The corner was relatively plain. The small wardrobe on the other side of the bed was open, and it seemed that there were several books lying on one of the shelves, a pile of sweaters on another shelf, and several dress robes hanging. Adrienne walked toward her little corner, stepping over the small, almost faded line she had drawn around_ her_ territory their first year, forbidding anyone to cross the line. It seemed that in her absence this rule had long been forgotten.   
  
As she neared her bed, her eyes flitted over the made covers, which she had never done, and would never do in her life: She didn't believe in doing chores unless forced to. She walked around it and stood before her wardrobe. She raised an eyebrow and then reached forward, grabbing the pile of unknown sweaters and tossing them into the middle of the room. Next, she reached for the textbooks, which soon joined the growing pile. Once she had emptied her wardrobe, she walked across the room to Kalista's nighttable and retrieved a piece of parchment, which upon she scribbled: "Put your stuff away ~ ALM." This parchment then was placed atop the pile in the middle of the room.   
  
Adrienne walked back to her bed and sat down upon it, smiling at her handy work.   
  
"Dum de dum dum," she sang softly, leaning back onto the small pillow at the head of the bed.   
  
She quickly sat back up and looked around the room as if she had just realized where she was.   
  
"I'm dreaming," she said finally, pursing her lips in confusion.   
  
She took a deep breath, sighed and lay back down, pursing her lips more. Adrienne lay there in silence, in a partial state of shock, not at all yet at terms with her new situation in life.   
**  


* * *  


**  
"Joe, did you not hear what Julia just said?" Mia asked in disbelief, narrowing her at her husband.   
  
Joe didn't say anything; he continued to stare into space, imagining how horrible owl must taste and deciding that perhaps he'd have to fast that night.   
"Joe?"   
  
Joe narrowed one eye, and then made a horrified face. "I'm not eating Owl," he finally said in a quiet and deliberate voice.   
  
"I've married a moron!" Mia exclaimed, hitting him across the shoulder with the Hogwarts letter.   
  
Joe turned and looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "What _are_ you on about?" he asked.   
  
"Joseph Alexander Glenn." Mia was pale now, all the blood having drained from her face, her eyes flashing. She raised the letter at him, and this time he flinched.   
  
"So, she's been expelled," he said nonchalantly, taking a step back to put some space between him and the waving letter. And then, suddenly, his face darkened, his innocent expression dropped, as understanding finally dawned on him. "Adrienne Lily Miles I mean Potter no Adrienne get down here right now!"   
  
Adrienne sat up straight in her bed; she could have sworn she had heard her name. She listened again, but heard nothing. She shrugged her shoulders and lay back down, staring around the dormitory as if it had just appeared from nowhere. Just as she shut her eyes she heard the stomping of feet through the large common room outside the dormitory.   
  
"Ouch," she moaned, rolling over onto her stomach and pulling the pillow atop her head. "Professor Glenn's angry," she muttered into her covers.   
  
Behind her, Adrienne heard the door open. She didn't move.   
  
"Knock, knock, knock," came a dull voice behind her and then the sound of two sets of feet.   
  
"All right, missy," Joe said as he crossed the room in a quick stride, Mia following behind him, still holding the letter before her as if brandishing it as a whip. Adrienne squeezed her eyes shut and pushed her head into her bed, hoping desperately that they'd just disappear. "You want to explain this?"   
  
"Not really," Adrienne murmured into the bedspread.   
  
Joe smiled sarcastically. "Not really, eh. Get your face out from under the pillow and start talking."   
  
"I'm partial to this position; how 'bout I just stay here?" Adrienne replied, pulling the pillow down upon her head with more force.   
  
"No, that wasn't one of the options."   
  
"Never was good at these options things always hated multiple choice exams. I think one answer is good, but then you've got your heart set on another I always get the short end of the stick," came Adrienne's muffled voice.   
  
"Get up!"   
  
Joe reached down and with one swift motion pulled the pillow from her grasp.   
  
"Really now, I was quite comfortable," Adrienne whined, rolling over and staring up at her two professors. Mia was still waving the letter.   
  
"Ah, is this the welcome home party, because really, I expected more. Was streamers and balloons and maybe a few fairies too much to ask? Some party."   
  
Adrienne cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow to match Mia's; she was seriously contemplating informing Mia that if she kept her face like that, it might freeze, but then thought better of it.   
  
"Are you possessed or do you just feel like acting like a lunatic today?" Mia had finally stopped waving the letter and had flung it down at her, now positioning it right between Adrienne's eyes as one would position a gun.   
  
"Am I possessed?" Adrienne chuckled slightly. "That depends on your definition of possessed. And can we put down the letter, those corners could poke out one of my eyes, and then I'd be 'Adrienne, the eye-less wonder.'"   
  
"Oh, no, even if you lost an eye, no one would know you as 'Adrienne the eye-less wonder,' you'll be 'Adrienne, the girl who's grounded for life,'" Mia hissed, refusing to move the letter.   
  
"Oh, I'm afraid now! My professors are threatening to ground me. Do me a favor, forget the grounding, forget the lecture. I got in a fight. I, basically subconsciously, beat up a moron. And now I'm away from the stuck-up snobs who have a complex with believing all transfers to be wildly imaginative liars. Wait, they're not really snobs just untrusting mongrels. So, now that we've established that, assign me some floors to scrub and we can get on with our lives," Adrienne said as she sat up, turning her attention to a broken nail.   
  
Mia cast a quick glance at Joe and then slowly lowered the letter.   
  
"So, you really did beat the snot out of some Hogwarts kid?" Joe asked slowly, a slight smirk playing on his face, the thought that she had been expelled quickly leaving his mind, being replaced with more interesting questions about how well she did.   
  
Adrienne looked up. "I didn't beat the snot out of him, but I did make him bleed pretty good," she said nonchalantly.   
  
"Don't look like you took any good hits," Joe replied, reaching down and tilting her head upwards to get a good look at her face as Mia dropped her jaw in protest.   
  
"She's been expelled and you're leading up to a congratulation on her ability to fight?" Mia exclaimed, now turning the letter on him, hitting him on the shoulder again.   
  
"Stop with the letter already!" Joe exclaimed, taking a step back and raising his arm to block any successive blows.   
  
"You're supposed to be the disciplinarian!" Mia continued, "not the encourager of violence!"   
  
"And what are you, the model of example to which Adrienne should follow? Look at you, you're attacking me with a letter for Merlin's sake!" Joe shot back.   
  
Adrienne smiled and tried not to laugh, her eyes flitting to the open window a few feet away. She smiled again, 'It's so easy to distract them all I have to do is act like an idiot, and they start the blame on each other too easy.'   
  
"I am a perfectly good example for her!" Mia cried. "Its you that causes her to do all these crazy things."   
  
"Me? ME? Pardon me, dear, but_ I _was never at Hogwarts shouting my encouragement for her to throw punches at unsuspecting morons."   
  
Adrienne slowly slid off the back of her bed, her green eyes fixated on Joe and Mia, who were now gesticulating and arguing in strained voices. Joe's face was slowly becoming redder and redder, while Mia periodically stomped her foot, making Adrienne want to scream, "Olé" and throw a red blanket.   
  
Adrienne had now reached the window, her eyes leaving her professors to move toward the broom rack hanging on the wall. She quickly grabbed Saundra McKale's old Shooting Star from its hanger and then turned back to the window.   
  
"Seems like I'm intruding, I'll just step on out," she called over her shoulder.   
  
"Joe, I hope you" Mia turned, dropping her arms to her side, "Adri-" But Adrienne had already jumped from the window, pulled herself onto the boom, and flown straight up and out of sight.   
  
"Wow, taking to become an escape artist? Marvelous! Well rounded girl!" Joe said in an approving tone.   
  
"This is all _your_ fault!"   
**  


* * *  


**  
Once Adrienne had left Hogwarts, Harry prepared himself for the onslaught of questions about Dumbledore calling her 'Miss Potter,' but they never came. Not one person questioned him on this, and when he finally drew up the courage to ask Fred and George if they knew why such information had been overlooked, he had been surprised to find out that the entire school thought it to be some kind of joke.   
  
"Come on, Harry, there's no way that girl could be related to you! Just because you look alike means nothing! I mean, look at Fred and I," George started, but then he abruptly stopped.   
  
"He gets confused easily can't get it past his thick skull that we look alike because we're_ twins_," George groaned. "Honestly, Fred, what rock did you crawl out from under?"   
  
Fred chose to ignore George. "All I'm saying, Champ, is that it must have been a slip of the tongue come on, you're not telling me you're actually related to her, are you? I mean, you're not even alike. And plus, you're _Harry Potter_ - there's some kind of rule about being a dashing young hero you have to be the only one left of your clan. This sister business, it just ruins the whole image." Fred reached out and patted Harry's shoulder encouragingly. "Don't worry about it we all think of you as our local orphaned knight in shining armor!"   
  
"I'm not a knight in shining armor and if you must know, Adrienne - " But Ron had chosen that moment to pull him away for a half-hearted game of chess, in which Ron spent the entire time commenting on the dumb moves Adrienne would be making if she were playing instead of Harry.   
  
It was now the last weekend of April, and Harry stared blankly at his potions textbook, thinking back to that night "our local orphaned knight in shining armor," he muttered, "pathetic." But he had never set Fred or George straight.   
  
"All right, one more time. The Goblin rebellion of 1876 took place at - "   
  
"Ok, that's it, no more Goblin rebellions," Ron whispered, his eyes narrowed. He reached across the table and snatched the scroll from Hermione's hand.   
  
"Ron! Stop, we need to study!" Hermione chastised, reaching for her scroll.   
  
Ron held it up to his face and slowly began to unroll it. His eyes widened once he reached the end. "Hermione, this _entire_ scroll is only on the Goblin rebellion of 1876!"   
  
Hermione nodded, raising a challenging eyebrow. "Of course it is, Ron. That was an essential rebellion that led to the establishment - "   
  
"This has to be seven feet of parchment, at least! Seven feet for a rebellion that only lasted two hours! Ok, it's official, you're mad!"   
  
Harry cast an amused glance between his best friends. Hermione had placed her hands on the table before her and had stood up, leaning toward Ron.   
  
"Actually, it was only 1 hour and 36 minutes long, then the Ministry broke it up," Harry replied abruptly, turning his attention back to his notes.   
  
Both Ron and Hermione turned to stare at him, surprised expressions plastered upon both of their faces.   
  
"You remembered that from class, Harry? I'm impressed," Hermione breathed, beaming, feeling as if her studious skills had finally rubbed off on *someone*.   
  
"No, learned it from a song," Harry replied, looking up again.   
  
Ron laughed. "A song? Right."   
  
"Really, words set to some American anthem. Adrienne always sung it during Quidditch practice." Harry's face suddenly fell.   
  
"Oh, I wonder how she's doing," Ron said, falling back into his chair.   
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed her scroll from where Ron had dropped it onto the table. "Well, we've written her several letters, and she's never written back. I think Christmas unhinged her a little," she commented, sitting back down.   
  
"She was unhinged from the beginning!"   
  
"Can it, Parvati!" Harry called to the girl sitting at the table behind him.   
  
"Maybe she's hallucinating, and that's why she thought she was a Perfect," Ron said in a quiet voice, not wanting the conversation to carry.   
  
Harry and Hermione pulled their chairs closer to the table so they could hear better.   
  
"I guess that's always a possibility; however, I find it highly unlikely," answered Hermione, beginning to unroll her scroll again.   
  
"I don't understand her," Harry sighed, looking back down at his potions textbook.   
  
"Who does?" Ron replied, crossing his arms.   
  
"There's something seriously wrong with the girl," Hermione muttered as she began to read over the Goblin rebellion scroll.   
  
"Excuse me, Miss Granger?"   
  
Harry looked up to see who was speaking. Madam Pince was standing next to the table, her black robes covered in a thin layer of dust from pulling all the books down from the shelves. She was holding a piece of parchment in her hand.   
  
"Oh, yes?" Hermione turned in her chair to look at the librarian.   
  
"It seems that one of your friends checked out a book quite some time ago, and she hasn't turned her book back in. Could you remind her?"   
  
Madam Pince had a nasal and clipped voice that reminded Harry greatly of Professor Binns.   
  
"Who is it?" Hermione asked.   
  
"A Miss Adrienne Miles," Madam Pince responded, squinting her eyes at the name on the parchment.   
  
Hermione cast a glance at Harry and then returned her gaze to Madam Pince, smiling slightly.   
  
"She was expelled over a month ago," Hermione said slowly, trying not to laugh at Madam Pince's less than current knowledge of the student body. She didn't think Pince even socialized much with the teachers, thus would probably not have heard the news of Adrienne's expulsion, but still, Hermione thought everyone would have known by now.   
  
"Expelled? This is the third time a student has been expelled and kept their library books! And she had quite an old one too, our _only _copy."   
  
"What book did she have out?" Harry interrupted, suddenly quite interested to see what Adrienne had been reading.   
  
Madam Pince turned her attention back to the parchment. "_Complete Control: The Imperious Curse_," she grunted, reaching up and itching the side of her nose. "Why would she be interested in that – what, she think someone's controlling her?"   
  
"Adrienne isn't the type to go reading books just for fun. She didn't even read our assigned books unless it was absolutely necessary or if the didn't have a Wizard's Notes version," Ron said thoughtfully.   
  
"Do you have any other books similar to it?" Hermione asked thoughtfully, suddenly very curious.   
  
"One just came in. I'll get it for you."   
  
Harry watched Madam Pince walk away, swinging the parchment dejectedly, obviously quite miffed about losing a book. Once she had disappeared, he turned his attention back to Hermione.   
  
"What are you thinking?" he asked, reading her thoughtful expression.   
  
Hermione shook her head. "Nothing really, just wondering why she'd be interested in such a book."   
  
"Well, Adrienne sure had been acting weird," Ron suggested, "but she didn't act like Crouch did when he was under the Imperious Curse. Remember, he was really dazed, almost as if he had just woken up and had never gotten past that stage."   
  
"Here it is." Madam Pince was back, carrying a large black leather bound book. "_Tracing the Roots of the Imperious Curse_ and mind you, it's brand new, so don't be spilling any pumpkin juice on it or feeding it to any of Hagrid's little friends."   
  
Hermione took the book from her and placed it on the table. Ron dropped his jaw.   
  
"That's a pretty big book," he moaned, lowering his head to the table, "has to be at least 3000 pages at least."   
  
"The roots of the Imperious Curse?" Harry muttered, staring at the title. "That almost makes it sound as if the Imperious Curse wasn't the first controlling curse."   
  
Hermione nodded. "Yeah, it does."   
  
"So?" Ron moaned, "who cares!"   
  
"Well, obviously Adrienne did," Hermione replied, opening the book.  
  
**

* * *  


**  
"Miles, hold up!"   
  
Adrienne doubled back to the charms corridor, searching for who had called for her. Erica Lessie was running up the corridor, holding her bag, half-open, in her hand. She hadn't asked to be called Potter, and when Professors Glenn and Hartel asked her if that's what she was going by now, she had muttered something indeterminable. She had decided on her long walk up to the castle that she'd stick with Miles that way when she ended up being moved from a pawn in Voldemort's game of death to a queen, Harry's memory wouldn't have to suffer by everyone knowing that it was his own sister who had let him die.   
  
"What's all the running for?" Adrienne asked as Erica skidded to halt next to her, her brown ponytail bobbing unceremoniously behind her.   
  
"I was gonna go get some lunch, you want to come?" Erica asked, reaching down to push her textbooks back into her bag and zip it shut. Adrienne sighed slightly, not very hungry.   
  
"Sure," she replied. "What's for lunch anyway?"   
  
"Fish sticks," Erica answered as the two made their way toward the noisy cafeteria.   
  
"Fish sticks?" Adrienne groaned, rolling her eyes and wrinkling her nose. "The house elves being lazy again, are they? My gosh, they're horrible! The past two days we've had fish sticks."   
  
"Yeah, wouldn't you think that Professor Bell would have told them to serve something else?" Erica muttered as they pushed their way into the crowed cafeteria. From the looks of the other students, no one was thrilled with having a third lunch of fish sticks.   
  
"Yeah, well, you know the house elves maybe they ran out of other food?" Adrienne backstepped.   
  
Whatever Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall had thought would be Adrienne's punishment was definitely not what she ended up with. Mia and Joe had completely exhausted themselves from arguing, which as it happened, continued for almost an hour after Adrienne fled the room. Professor Bell had failed to toast the owl and instead had felt taken by it and decided to buy it from Dumbledore. Now in the corner of her office, Trouble the Owl slept. Adrienne had picked the name, deciding he should be called Trouble because if he had never delivered the letter, Adrienne would have never been in trouble at Salem.   
  
So, on account that Joe and Mia, after fighting for two hours ended up locked in their room, claiming they needed to discuss their child-rearing differences, and on account of Professor Bell's infatuation with her new owl, Adrienne had come off with the best punishment she had ever dreamed possible: help the kitchen elves.   
  
As pleased as she had been with her assignment, the house elves hadn't. She had walked into the kitchen, still sporting her black Hogwarts school robes, smiling broadly, and announced to all the present elves that she was there to help them. Screams promptly rang through the cavernous kitchen, and they all went scurrying for cover. The chief elf, upon realizing that no one had stayed to face Adrienne, slowly emerged from under a nearby counter, shaking madly. He walked hesitantly toward Adrienne, who was twirling her wand nonchalantly, deciding whether she should "help" the elves make her brownies or cake. The chief elf, upon reaching her, held out his spatula and calmly said, "Take the slick-and-put, but harm us none, oh great witch of disaster."   
  
Adrienne's original punishment had been to help the elves for a week, making both breakfast and dinner. However, on the third night of her punishment, a minor explosion had rocked the kitchen, and Adrienne was run out of the room by the stew-splattered elves, each bearing a butcher knife, yelling to the professors, who had congregated in the cafeteria to see what all the ruckus was about, that if Adrienne entered their kitchen once more, they all would quit.   
  
Adrienne tried to explain to Professor Bell that all she had done was turn up the temperature on the boiler 400 degrees, thinking that if it cooked in 3 hours at 200 degrees, it would cook in 1 hour at 600 degrees. This had been the last straw for Professor Bell. She had turned her shoulder when Adrienne had shipped off ¾ of the schools' monthly food rations to an African charity agency. Professor Bell had turned her shoulder when Adrienne had tried to shine the silver with Hydrochloric Acid, taken from Professor Glenn's lab, thinking that the acid would just eat off the grime. But house elves running amok with butcher knives that was too much, and Adrienne's punishment was dropped.   
  
So, Adrienne had spent her last month or so at Salem spending time with her friend Erica Lessie, a beater for the Salem Quidditch team. Unlike at Hogwarts, Salem only had one team, which played the other two Wizarding schools on the East Coast. Adrienne had felt miraculously like herself, feeling completely normal save for the occasional male voice that would pierce through her mind at odd moments of the day. As much as Professors Glenn and Hartel questioned her about why she got in the fight, about why she never spoke about her friends at Hogwarts, especially Harry, Adrienne couldn't say anything about the subjects. All she could do was sit there and try and change the topic at hand.   
  
It seemed that Voldemort had thought it best to let her live her life as normally as possible, save for the discussion of the Golden Serpent, about Perfects, or being cursed. Adrienne had even returned to dueling, spending her evenings with Professor Hartel, preparing for the upcoming International Championships. And although her life was almost exactly how it had been before she went to Hogwarts, she absolutely couldn't stand it. She missed Ron tremendously and often wondered if he was thinking about her. She missed Hermione chastising her about her lack of studious effort. And she missed talking to Harry. She had kept all their letters, but couldn't bring herself to write back to them. What would she say Hey guess what? I'm You-Know-Who's new best friend! Isn't that great... anyone have any suggestions? Love ya all ~ Adrienne. No, so she never wrote them back.   
  
"Adrienne, you want any fish sticks?"   
  
Erica and Adrienne were now standing in the food line, waiting for the house elves to dish their plates. This was another thing about Hogwarts she missed: She never had to wait in line for food there; it always appeared at their house tables.   
  
Adrienne sent a disgusted glance at the fish sticks lying in the pan before her and then smiled sweetly at the house elf holding the spoon.   
  
"Nah, I think I'll fast," Adrienne said hurriedly as the house elf barred his teeth at her. "Maybe eat an apple."   
  
She walked around Erica and proceeded down the line, trying to ignore the death stares sent at her from the various elves.   
  
The Cafeteria was crowded with green robed teenagers, and the disorganization of the multitudes of circular tables spread throughout the room was a little disconcerting to Adrienne. She quickly pushed her way to an empty table in the corner and set down her glass of milk and her apple, looking behind her to see if Erica was coming. She was still in line, trying to convince an elf to give her an extra piece of cake. Adrienne's eyes flitted back and forth among the students close to her, realizing that people were looking at her, some even pointing, whispering. Adrienne rolled her eyes and sat down.   
  
"You're still the hot topic of discussion," Erica said as she set her tray next to Adrienne, smiling broadly as she pointed to the two pieces of chocolate cake pilled on the side of her tray. "You should hear some of the rumors they're cooking up, pretty hilarious."   
  
Adrienne turned to glare at Erica.   
  
"I think my favorite is the one about you having a wild-"   
  
"I really don't want to know," Adrienne moaned, reaching down for her apple, which didn't look nearly as appetizing as Erica's cake. Adrienne picked the apple up and fingered the stem, twirling it lazily.   
  
"You started on that Transfiguration paper yet?" Erica asked as she took a bite of her fish stick.   
  
Adrienne didn't look up from her apple. "No," she replied nonchalantly.   
  
"Me either, but we should get started, it's due pretty soon," Erica said, giving up on the fish sticks and pulling over a piece of cake.   
  
Adrienne set her apple back on the table and flicked it with a finger, knocking it over. It began to roll across the table, and Adrienne watched with mild amusement as it rolled off the edge. She slowly leaned to the side to see where her apple had rolled to. It had stopped by a pair of feet, hidden under long red robes with a gold trim. Adrienne slowly sat back up and stared up into Professor Bell's face.  
  
"Oh, hi," Adrienne said, reaching for her glass.   
  
"Oh, hi," Professor Bell replied staring at her in a contemplative manner.   
  
Adrienne raised an eyebrow.   
  
"Yeah," she started. "What you want?"   
  
Professor Bell reached down and picked up the apple, looking at it with a disgusted expression. "Miss Miles, what a waste of food," she sighed, placing it back on the table, small specks of dirt visible on its gleaming coat.   
  
"Nah, it's still good; the dirt adds some extra flavoring," Adrienne muttered, reaching for it. She rubbed it on her robe and then took a bite. "Yum, mud, my favorite," she spluttered through her full mouth, clearly enjoying Professor Bell's disgusted reaction.   
  
"Miss Miles" Professor Bell shook her head.   
  
Adrienne nodded, taking another bite from her apple, carefully avoiding the bruised part. Professor Bell rolled her eyes and sighed.   
  
"I just wanted to ask you a question. If you were ever to run into anyone from Hogwarts, you wouldn't, um, repeat your little gestures of friendship again, would you?"   
  
Adrienne squeezed her eyes in thought.   
  
"Nah. I'd buy them all bouquets and attest to how much I missed seeing their cheery faces every day," she said dully, taking another bite from the apple.   
  
"Well, I recommend you learn to control your temper before the end of May, alright?"   
  
Adrienne stopped chewing midbite and stared up at the Headmistress, who had already turned to walk away.   
  
"How come, Professor Bell? How come?" she called after her, but Professor Bell didn't turn around to answer.   
  
Adrienne set down her apple and turned to look at Erica.   
  
"What's she on about?" Adrienne asked.   
  
Erica shrugged. "Who knows. What _did _you do back at Hogwarts anyway?" she asked, looking up from her cake.   
  
Adrienne raised an eyebrow.   
  
"Maybe I chopped someone up into little pieces and fed him to a squid. Or maybe I stole one too many library books. Or maybe I streaked through the Great Hall on a dare after having one to many Butterbeers," Adrienne muttered, shrugging her shoulders. "Maybe I barbecued Professor Dumbledore's bird. Who knows I tend to have a bad memory, don't I? I forgot."   
  
Erica's jaw dropped slightly. "You _forgot_?" she exclaimed.   
  
Adrienne turned back to her apple. "Yup," she lied.   
  
**

* * *  


**  
"What page are you on?" Ron asked, rolling his eyes as he and Hermione began climbing the Quidditch stands. "You really didn't _have_ to bring that thing to the game, did you?"   
  
Hermione was panting slightly behind him, hauling _Tracing the Roots of the Imperious Curse_. She stopped at a landing and shifted the book in her arms, trying desperately not to drop it.   
  
"Yes, you never know when I might have time to look through it," Hermione gasped. "Can't we just sit here?"   
  
Ron shook his head slowly. "We're a whole one-third up the stadium; we won't be able to see squat, Hermione. We have to sit at the top, just like always."   
  
Hermione threw her head back in protest. "Please? This thing is _really_ heavy."  
  
"Come on, you're the genius, use a feather-light charm," Ron suggested, tapping his foot impatiently, dearly wanting to go up and claim seats, even though they were an hour early for the Quidditch final and the only students in the stadium.   
  
"You know I can't do that. We're not to use magic out here either, just like in the corridors," Hermione chastised, narrowing her eyes slightly, momentarily forgetting her exhaustion.   
  
"Girls," Ron sighed, grabbing the book from her. "They can't do anything for themselves, come on."   
  
He began trudging up the stadium, Hermione rushing to catch him.   
  
"I sure hope Harry wins," Hermione muttered as they took their seats at the very top.   
  
Ron dropped the book down between them with a loud thump.   
  
"Of course we'll win, Hermione. We're playing Ravenclaw for the Cup. Cho is nothing compared to Harry," Ron collapsed into the space next to the book and stretched his legs out before him, crossing his ankles on the seat below.   
  
Hermione turned to look at the book next to her. She had checked it out a week ago, but only days after having it Professor Wallace had made a request with Madam Pince for it, saying she wanted to look at it before she began teaching the theory behind the Imperious Curse to her seventh years. So, Hermione had reluctantly relinquished the book to her, with Professor Wallace's promise that she'd return the book in an expedient manner. Hermione, quiet expecting an expedient manner to the Defense Mistress, who had just dyed her new crew cut bright blue, to be, at the earliest, three weeks, was quite surprised to get it back two days later.   
  
"I have so much to read," she sighed, reaching down and heaving it into her lap.   
  
Ron shook his head.   
  
"Really, what is reading that going to accomplish. It's not going to unexpell Adrienne. It's not going to make her start writing us. It's not going to make whatever's bothering her go away," he said dejectedly, glaring at the book with disdain.   
  
"I just don't see why she'd be interested in the Imperious Curse," Hermione replied as she turned to page 1456. "I don't see that, I don't see why she acted so strange, I don't see why she's convinced she's a Perfect."   
  
Ron leaned back and interlaced his fingers in his lap. "Maybe we should have listened to her, tried to get her to explain why she thought that," he suggested timidly, knowing Hermione's reaction.   
  
Her head jerked up. "No! We shouldn't feed her imagination. She doesn't need someone playing along with her antics," Hermione snapped, although she didn't currently know if that was really the best thing to have done. Maybe Ron was right, maybe if she had tried to understand Adrienne's reasoning, then just maybe they could have helped her.   
  
Ron stared out into the horizon, breathing heavily.   
  
"Well, if you find anything interesting, tell me," he muttered.   
  
**

* * *  


**  
"This is it, folks, the moment of reckoning between this year's two best House teams, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor."   
  
It was a perfect day for the Quidditch final. The early May sky was a bright blue and there wasn't a cloud in sight. The sound of birds chirping could be heard from all corners of the grounds, and the slight breeze provided for a comfortable temperature.   
  
"And Gryffindor has made some changes to their line up." Lee Jordan was sitting next to Professor McGonagall, a Muggle style baseball cap pulled down low on his head to block the sun. "They've added fifth year Dean Thomas to their chaser line. We haven't seen Thomas play yet, and let's just hope that team captain, Alicia Spinnet, made an intelligent choice in picking him."   
  
Hermione raised a hand to her forehead to shield the sun. Ron was holding the library book before him, or at least tried to for several minutes until his arms were too tired to hold the heavy book any longer.   
  
"And without further ado, the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teams!"   
  
Fourteen people clad in blue and scarlet robes walked onto the pitch, carrying their broomsticks over their shoulders. Harry brought up the end of the Gryffindor line and craned his neck behind him to search the stands for Hermione and Ron, who he found at the very top, waving to him.   
  
Harry watched with mild trepidation as Cho and Alicia shook hands. Harry shifted his weight and brought his broom off his shoulder to hold it before him. He nervously tightened his grip on the Firebolt. Sure he was a much better flyer than Cho. Sure he had the faster broom. But the fact remained, that as much as speed and agility played into the successfulness of a Seeker, luck played an important, if not equal, part. It was one thing to have the faster broom and be the closest to and the first to spot the snitch, but it was another thing to have the faster broom and be an entire field away and the last to spot the snitch that time discrepancy was his greatest fear.   
  
Harry took to the air as Madam Hooch's whistle sounded.   
  
"And they're off! It's Ravenclaw's Barron who's first to the quaffle. This is her final year at Hogwarts, I bet she'd sure like to take home the Cup this year, make it memorable."   
  
Harry flew up above the game, his eyes squinting behind his glasses, searching back and forth across the pitch. Below him Katie Bell intercepted the quaffle from Barron.   
  
"And with a strategically timed steal, the quaffle is in Gryffindor possession. Looks like Bell's been targeted, the Ravenclaw Beaters, Rawley and Boyd, are coming after her at full speed."   
  
Harry turned to watch Boyd smash a bludger at her. Katie veered to the right, tightening her grip on the quaffle. Isabel Garland, another Ravenclaw chaser flew after Katie, leaning close to her broom. It had been rumored that Isabel Garland was the daughter of the famous Welsh broom-racer, Philip Garland, but Isabel had never admitted to this. Harry watched as she closed the distance between her and Katie, clearly flying as if she was used to always flying at break-neck speeds.   
  
Harry shook his head suddenly, realizing he was supposed to be searching for the Snitch, and turned toward the far end of the pitch, urging his Firebolt forward and returning to his quest.   
  
"And Garland has intercepted the quaffle. Merlin, can she fly! She's one of the fastest flyers out there and maneuvers like it were nothing. You know, she's rumored to be the illegitimate daughter of - "   
  
"Mr. Jordan, what does that have to do with the game?" McGonagall hissed, leaning toward him, her eyes flashing.   
  
"Yes, but that's just a rumor. We all know how nasty rumors can be. Back to the game. Garland on a straight away, but wait, she's hit in the ribs by a well-placed Weasley-style bludger attack. And the quaffle is caught by Captain Alicia Spinnet, who passes to Katie Bell. And it's Katie Bell, followed by the Ravenclaw Beaters. Rawley aims, look out Katie! And she passes to Dean Thomas, who shoots!"   
  
Groans rang through part of the stands as the Ravenclaw keeper, Nathan McAlester caught the quaffle.   
  
Harry crossed above the game again. He had seen the snitch once and had dove for it just as Cho had. The snitch had disappeared before either one could catch it, and they both had to pull up rather quickly from their dives to avoid colliding.   
  
"And with fifteen minutes of play there still has been no score," Lee announced.   
  
Harry cast a glance at Cho, who was flying several feet below him, her black hair pulled back into a high pony-tail, her head flipping back and forth searching desperately for the snitch. Harry banked to the left and turned around, narrowing his eyes slightly.   
  
"What a boring game," Ron groaned, slouching in his seat as Alicia shot was blocked by a narrow save.   
  
"When are these games ever edge-of-the-seat entertainment?" Hermione muttered, crossing her arms and staring at Harry's flying form. "Not much sign of the snitch yet, eh?"   
  
"Nope, bloody disappointing, that's what it is. This is supposed to be the game of the season and nothing's happening. Lee isn't even doing anything funny, at least that would have kept us entertained for a while," Ron grumbled.   
  
"There's not even anything for to him to really comment about anyway. All they do is shoot and the quaffle is blocked, nothing note-worthy to say," Hermione replied, raising her hand back up to block the sun.   
  
Ron mumbled something Hermione couldn't hear and then dragged himself into a standing position, knocking the edge of the library book with his leg.   
  
"OUCH!" he screamed, pulling his foot up into the air and holding his right toes with both hands. "Damn thing!"   
  
"What happened, what is it? What's wrong?" Hermione asked quickly, staring at him with a surprised expression as he jumped up and down, holding his foot.   
  
Hermione watched in horror as he on several accounts almost lost his balance as he screamed obscenities into the air.   
  
"Sit back down, you'll fall and break your neck!" she hissed, standing up and pulling his collar.   
  
Ron collapsed down next to her, holding his foot in pain, small tears staining the corners of his blue eyes.   
  
"What did you do?" Hermione asked, prying his fingers away from his foot so she could get a better look at it. "The shoes still on, so why are you screaming like someone chopped your foot off?"   
  
"That monstrosity of a book you insisted on carrying all the way up here jumped off the seat and landed on my foot," he spat, glaring suspiciously at the green-leather bound book lying open on the floor of their row.   
  
Hermione rolled her eyes.   
  
"Come now, Ron, it didn't actually _jump_ out at you, you must have knocked it as you stood up," she said rationally, bending down to pick it up.   
  
Ron narrowed his eyes.   
  
"No, I didn't touch it, it just _pounced_," he shot back, forgetting all about the ongoing game.   
  
Hermione straightened in her seat, hauling the book into her lap. "Yes, that's it. It saw you stand up and thought, oh look, Ron's foot is just calling out to be smashed, I think I'll answer it's plea," Hermione replied shortly, brushing the dirt off the book.   
  
"Exactly!"   
  
Hermione just shook her head and opened the book, looking to see if there were any bent pages from its fall.   
  
"What's this?" she asked quietly as she flipped through the pages.   
  
A single piece of yellowed parchment flew from the middle of the book.   
  
"Probably a loose page," Ron replied, leaning over to stare at it.   
  
Hermione slowly opened it, her brown eyes flitting over the parchment. Ron watched with interest as they narrowed in a confused expression and then returned to the top. Ron leaned over as she began to mouth the words, almost as if she didn't believe them.   
  
"What is it, Hermione?" he asked, reaching for the parchment.   
  
Hermione looked up, her face pale.   
  
Around them, the multitudes of students stood up simultaneously as both Harry and Cho began their dives, their eyes fixed on the snitch hovering inches above the right corner of the pitch. Ron and Hermione remained sitting, completely oblivious to what was happening, too absorbed with the writing on the piece of parchment:  
  
_They cannot be separated, not even in death, for fate will draw them together. Both ancient and modern magic personified, one will begin the battle but only together can success be achieved. The one thought to be dead will be raised and marked by the symbol of strength. And only when the serpent is held ransom, will the test of wills truly begin._   
  
Ron looked up from the parchment as cheers rang through the stadium.   
  
"I don't get it," he replied, looking around excitedly to see what was going on. "What's happened?" he called down to Neville who was sitting several rows ahead of them and was jumping up and down, waving his wizard's hat in the air.   
  
Neville flew around, his face bright red.   
  
"We've won, we've won! 150 - 0. We've won!" Neville screamed and then turned back around to wave his hat once more.   
  
"We've won, we've won! We've won the cup!" Ron shouted, joining in with the cheering and hat waving. "We've missed the ending, Hermione, we missed Harry catching the snitch. I can't believe it!"   
  
Ron turned to look down at Hermione, who was still sitting, staring disbelievingly at the piece of parchment in her slightly shaking hands.   
  
"What is it, Hermione? Come on, stand up and celebrate! Didn't you hear, we've won! Umpf!"   
  
Hermione had reached up and pulled Ron into the seat next to her.   
  
"What was that for?" he groaned. "That kind of stung."   
  
"Shh," she hissed, leaning toward him. "Didn't you read this?"   
  
Ron rolled his eyes, "Yup come on, let's get down to the pitch to congratulate Harry."   
  
Hermione shook her head.   
  
"Look at this," she said, pointing to the bottom right hand corner.   
  
In sloppy handwriting was written, 'prediction made by Professor Sibyll Trelawney in 1980.'   
  
"So?" asked Ron, beginning to feel slightly perturbed. Everyone else was filing down toward the pitch except them. "Ok, so it's some crazy false prediction of Professor Trelawney about *nothing*, come on, she's made tons of them."   
  
"Adrienne has a triangle on her hand. They thought her to be dead," Hermione muttered, staring at the piece of parchment.   
  
"What does a triangle and Adrienne have to do with this?" Ron snapped.   
  
"A triangle it's the symbol of strength in many cultures," Hermione whispered.   
  
Ron's face dropped and his mouth fell slightly.   
  
"Oh," he paused, looking over the parchment again, "you're not thinking - "   
  
"When the serpent is held ransom the Golden Serpent's been stolen," Hermione whispered. "Modern and ancient magic personified"   
  
"I don't get that," Ron remarked, still not seeing what was so amazing about the words.   
  
"Have you not paid any attention to anything we've been learning about Perfects?" Hermione snapped, staring up at him with narrowed eyes.   
  
Ron turned his eyes upward to the sky in thought. "Um not really, no, guess I haven't. You have to admit, it's a pretty boring subject researching dead wizards who could do crazy things and ended up in the loony bin or in the dark order really wasn't my idea of a grand time."   
  
"Ron! The Art of Perfection the ancient arts" Hermione prompted, biting her lip. "We need to speak to Adrienne."   
  
Ron leaned back in his seat, groaning. "What, going to start in on her about lying about being a Perfect again," he said angrily.   
  
"What happens if she wasn't lying," Hermione whispered slowly, pocketing the parchment.   
  
"WHAT?" Ron exclaimed, sitting up bolt. "You can't change your mind now after you made her look like a fool that night."   
  
"We need to speak to her_ and _to Harry," Hermione said, jumping up. "Now."   
  
"Before we all, or perhaps not all, go back to the school to celebrate."   
  
Dumbledore's voice suddenly filled the stadium, and Hermione and Ron, standing on their tiptoes could see him standing in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, the Gryffindor House team behind him, Harry in the middle, his head flying back and forth, obviously searching for Hermione and Ron.   
  
"I have an announcement to make and feel this would be the best time to do so. I'm sure you all remember the Christmas tragedy at the Salem Academy of Magical Studies back in America."   
  
Everyone had stopped whooping and throwing their hats, or in the cases of the Ravenclaws and the Slytherins, stopped whining and protesting the result of the game.   
  
"I've been in correspondence with their Headmistress, Julia Bell, and we both feel that their school could use a morale boost this term. So, what better way than to offer an Inter-School Quidditch Match!"   
  
Heads turned throughout the stadium and the hiss of whispers sprang up everywhere.   
  
"Before the end of May we will put together a School Quidditch team which will play against Salem's the last weekend of May at the Salem Academy. The Ministries are currently organizing the mass port-key system that will be required, and permission-slips have been sent to your parents for their authorization of your attendance. Well then, that said, I think there is a House waiting to return to their common room to commence their victory party!"   
  
Ron turned to look at Hermione, smiling slightly. "You hear that, we're going to Salem, I guess you'll get to talk to Adrienne, won't you?" he asked slyly.   
  
Hermione suddenly sat down in her seat, still clutching the book to her chest.   
  
"I imagine she's not going to be very thrilled with me, will she," Hermione asked slowly.   
  
"I imagine not, since you claimed her to be a liar," Ron replied, beginning to walk toward the stone staircase.   
  
"Wait a minute, I never said I believed her I just need to talk to her and you thought she was lying too!" Hermione called after him, standing up and following.   
  
"Oh, yeah," Ron said, stopping in his tracks. "Perhaps I should buy her some 'I'm-sorry' roses?"   
  
**

* * *  


**  
"Master?"   
  
Like always, Voldemort's chamber was extremely dark, and Lucius could barely see anything at all.   
  
"Yes, Lucius," Voldemort said slowly.   
  
There was the sound of the movement of a cloak and the torches were suddenly aflame. Lucius blinked several times as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. When he could finally see, he took several steps into the room.   
  
"I just received an owl from Hogwarts. The students have been invited to the Salem Academy, for an inter-school Quidditch game," Lucius said quietly, drawing from within his robes an envelope with the Hogwarts crest.   
  
"Really? I wonder why Snape never informed me of this," Voldemort said slowly, his mouth curling evilly.   
  
He stood up and walked toward Lucius, his robe trailing on the dusty ground behind him. He snatched the envelope from Lucius' hand. His long spidery hands slowly pulled out the parchment from within and began reading.   
  
His red eyes flamed suddenly and he looked up, smiling.   
  
"This will work wonderfully. I think, Lucius, it's time that Adrienne show her true loyalty. Potter dies that weekend," he whispered, his red eyes widening with excitement. He turned and walked back to his chair, laughing slightly. "Oh little Adrienne, have I got a surprise for you, my child. Have I got a surprise for you, and that brother of yours."   
  
Lucius stood in the corner of the room, shivering slightly, wondering what Voldemort was planning now.   
  
"Lucius!"   
  
"Yes, My Lord," he replied, a trace of apprehension appearing on his covered face.   
  
"The Perfect insulted your family, did she not?"   
  
Voldemort was staring at him with an odd expression, his eyes had returned to normal, or as normal as flaming-red eyes ever got.   
  
Lucius nodded.   
  
"Yes, My Lord."   
  
"Then, once she is of no use to me, she'll be turned over to you, to pay her punishment for her actions."   
  
Lucius smirked.   
  
"Thank you, My Lord. She must be taught respect to the great wizarding families."   
  
"Just make sure she ends up dead. I'll take care of her brother."   
  
"As you wish, Master."   
**  
**


	30. Disappearing Act

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

**Chapter 30: Disappearing Act**  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

"Wait a second what _exactly_ did you just say?"  
  
The Cafeteria was suddenly silent and then, in a rush of motion, all heads turned to stare at Adrienne, who had jumped up from her chair in the back of the room.   
  
Professor Bell cast a quick glance to her right at Mia, who had lowered her head into her hands and was rubbing her temples. Professor Bell cleared her throat.   
  
As I just stated, Miss Miles, on the last weekend of May we will play host to an inter-school Quidditch match between Hogwarts and us," Bell replied, staring across the dimly lit room to where Adrienne had suddenly leaned back against the table behind her, Erica Lessie reaching and grabbing her arm to steady her.  
  
"Um does that entail their traveling here?" Adrienne asked in an uncharacteristically meek voice.  
  
Bell took a deep breath. "Yes, Miss Miles, that does seem to be the point of hosting their students here for the day to watch the match."  
  
Adrienne paled slightly and bit her lip.   
  
"Yes, well, this puts a damper on things," she murmured, glaring back at Professor Bell up at the teacher's table.   
  
Becoming aware of Erica holding onto her arm, Adrienne wrenched it from her grasp.   
  
"I'm quite capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much," she snapped, suddenly in a very bad mood.   
Harry, coming to Salem where she was this couldn't be good. Adrienne straightened and turned with intentions of stomping out of the cafeteria.  
  
"You'd think she'd be a little more thrilled to hear that her friends were coming here," Mia whispered behind her hand to Julia, who nodded her agreement.   
  
Mia watched curiously as Adrienne stomped toward the door, heads following her procession. And then a loud gasp rang through the room as Adrienne caught her foot on the hem of her robe and fell to the ground in a heap.  
  
"Miss Miles?" Mia called, jumping up and racing around the table, dodging the various chairs that pushed away from the table.   
  
Erica Lessie leaned back in her chair and watched as the professors and several prefects huddled around the unconscious girl. "Yep, that's going to hurt."  


  
*** * *  
**

  
"Hermione, do you have _any_ idea what you just said?" Harry asked, reaching up and running a hand through his wind-mussed hair.   
  
Hermione nodded and fell back onto his four-poster, holding the parchment above her. Ron miserably reached up and scratched his ear, quite bored.  
  
"Of course I do, Harry, and do you think it makes any more sense to me?" Hermione asked, dropping the parchment to stare up at him and Ron. Hermione rolled her eyes in thought. "The way I see it, for some time you've been on about Professor Trelawney making a real prediction about Wormtail, am I right?" Harry reluctantly nodded. "So, as much as I hate to admit that perhaps there is some substance to the more zany predictions of hers, maybe this prediction is the one Professor Dumbledore told you about before."  
  
"When before?" Ron interrupted, drawing his attention from his brainstorm on how to apologize to Adrienne.  
  
"Back in our third year, when I told Professor Dumbledore about Trelawney's prediction, he said it made her second real prediction, remember?" Harry answered, blinking heavily, suddenly feeling very tired.  
  
"Oh, back then," Ron muttered, turning his attention to what color roses he should buy her, and more importantly, where he would get the money.  
  
"Ok," Harry sat down next to Hermione. "Let's say this prophecy _is_ about Adrienne and I – "  
  
"Wait a second!" Ron interrupted, striding forward. He grabbed the parchment from Hermione's hand, smiling victoriously. "Ah ha! Look at it! Would you take a look at that, eh?"  
  
Hermione turned her head to stare up at him, her eyes narrowed. "Would you give that back to me I was looking at it," she ground out, irritated.  
  
"Well, then you just weren't looking at it good enough, were you? Some detective you'd make," Ron replied smugly. "Look at the parchment! Tell me what you see!"  
  
"We don't particularly have time to play games about a simple page from a book," Hermione snapped, sitting up and reaching for the parchment.   
  
Ron held it above his head, smiling gleefully. "But that's it it's not from the book."  
  
Hermione dropped her hand.   
"Come off it, Ron. It is too from the book. You saw it fall out," Hermione reasoned.  
  
Ron shook his head again and then turned to Harry, who looked pale. "What does this parchment look like to you? Does it look like a published material, Harry?"  
  
Harry reached for the parchment and then raised it closer to his eyes, squinting slightly.   
  
"It looks a little old not too old, but it's kind of yellowish," he replied, and then suddenly it clicked. "Where's that book, Hermione?"   
  
Hermione looked from him to Ron and then pointed to Ron's trunk, where she had deposited the book upon entering the dormitory.   
  
"But if it's old, it couldn't possibly have fallen from that book it's practically brand new, Madam Pince said she just got it in," Hermione mused as Harry walked over and heaved the book off the trunk.  
  
"Right. It couldn't have come from the book. And look, this parchment doesn't have page numbers either, and the last time I looked at that monstrosity" Ron glared at the book Harry dropped onto the bed, "it had page numbers on the bottom."  
  
"He's right, there are page numbers," Harry replied, staring at a random page.   
  
Hermione turned and looked at it. "But then, it must have been placed in there, maybe as a page marker?" she wondered, taking the parchment back from Harry. She unfolded it and stared at it, her brown eyes squinting in the dim lighting.  
"But no one's used it except you-"  
  
"And Professor Wallace," Harry said suddenly, jerking his head up.   
  
"What does Professor Wallace care about whether you and Adrienne are in a prophecy?" Ron asked.  
  
"And if she knew of this, why not at least tell us, or at least you, Harry," Hermione whispered, shutting her eyes in confusion. "I think she knows something, something big."  
  
"What, her?" Ron scoffed. "No way. She's completely daft."  
  
"She _was_ the last one to use the book," Hermione argued.  
  
"Hold on."  
  
Hermione and Ron turned to look at Harry, who was staring at the parchment still in Hermione's hand.  
  
"If this thing is true then Adrienne is a Perfect," said Harry.   
  
"That's what I'm afraid of," Hermione whispered.   
  
**

* * *  


**  
_A darkness like none other she had ever witnessed surrounded her, plunging through her, covering her, pulling at her. Adrienne couldn't see anything. She couldn't hear anything. All she could feel was the thick air against her skin, a slight wind rippling her robes. She reached her arms out blindly before her, feeling for something, anything. She took an awkward step forward, the sound of something crackling beneath her feet finally reaching her ears. She looked down, squinting in the absolute darkness, but she still couldn't make out anything.   
  
"Child."  
  
She turned to her left, holding her breath, trying to determine from which direction she was called.  
  
"Child."  
  
She heard it again, straight ahead of her. Adrienne paused, thinking what to do. The voice sounded oddly familiar, but she couldn't place the voice with a person. She took a deep breath and reached down for her wand, but found her pocket empty. She bit her lip in nervousness.  
  
"Who's there?" she called out.  
  
No one answered. Adrienne took a deep breath and started walking forward, suddenly aware of the clamminess of her robes, almost as if they were saturated in something. She didn't like the feeling. She continued walking forward, her mind trying to make sense of her sudden change in surroundings. She didn't know where she had been before and she didn't know where she was now. A slight tugging feeling began in her chest, and she stopped. She looked behind her, straight into the darkness, wondering if she should turn back.   
  
"Anyone there?" she called, her voice echoing for several seconds afterwards.   
  
"Child, it's almost time."  
  
Adrienne turned back around, her eyes wide, and her heart rising in her throat.  
  
"Who's there?" She took another step forward.  
  
"It's almost time."  
  
Adrienne took another deep breath and broke into a run, her hands out blindly in front of her, her eyes squinted, searching for light any light.   
  
"Almost time, Adrienne, almost time."   
  
Her foot slipped and she fell forward, her arms first hitting the ground and then the rest of her body. A searing pain soared through her as she lowered her head to the ground, a sudden nausea overtaking her.  
  
"Adrienne?" Someone was touching her shoulder, rolling her over she could feel it.   
  
"Adrienne?"   
_  
Adrienne snapped her eyes open and stared into the face above her. Professor Glenn was kneeling at her side, his face bent close to hers, a worried expression upon his face.  
  
"Adrienne, are you all right?" he asked in a soft voice, reaching down and brushing her hair from her eyes.  
  
Adrienne blinked several times, trying to remember what had happened. Oh yeah, I fell, she thought miserably. She took a deep breath, trying to force her headache to subside.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," she mumbled, looking away, her face reddening in embarrassment at the entire cafeteria standing up to get a good look at her. "Are we just going to stand and gawk or help me up?"   
  
Adrienne raised her hands in front of her and Professor Glenn stood up with a slight groan, and then reached down to pull her up.   
  
Adrienne shook her head slightly once she had resumed standing and then looked around the room.   
  
"All right, show's over," she said wearily, waving sarcastically at a nearby table. "We can all return to our dinner now." Professor Glenn was still standing next to her, his hands on her shoulders. She shrugged them off, irritated. "I'm fine, thanks."  
  
"You most definitely are not!" Mia exclaimed as Adrienne tried to take a step forward and had to check her balance. "Straight to the nurse for you young lady," she exclaimed as she put an arm around Adrienne's waist and steered her toward the door. After sending a 'we-have-it-under-control' glance to Professor Bell, Joe followed after.  
  
"Not the nurse, Professor Hartel! Please not the nurse! She hates me!" Adrienne mumbled half-heartedly once the doors had shut.  
  
"You just say that because she thinks you're a liability," Joe replied, drawing his wand, a protectionistic gleam in his eye.   
  
Adrienne tried to glare at him, but that hurt her head.   
  
"Don't you dare think about conjuring up a stretcher," she hissed.   
  
"And why not? Look at you, you can barely walk!" Joe replied.   
  
Adrienne shut her eyes.  
  
"Please don't! I don't need to go to the nurse, I don't need you to conjure a stretcher, I don't need your help!" she moaned, trying to push away Mia, who just tightened her grip around her in response.  
  
"The hell you don't! Look at you, you can barely walk," Mia snapped, pulling Adrienne into a long corridor.   
  
Adrienne turned her head quickly from side to side.  
  
"Wait this isn't the way to the nurse's," she said softly.   
  
Mia laughed. "Like I'd go visit that old broad unless it was a life-or-death emergency, and even then, I'd take my chances and hope that death doesn't win," she said in a dark tone.  
  
Adrienne turned to look at Joe, who didn't seem thrilled at her not seeing the nurse, but he didn't say anything. Adrienne, following Joe's silent approach, just let them lead her down the corridor, wondering where they were going if they weren't going to the nurses'. It took Adrienne a couple seconds longer than usual to finally realize what corridor they were in. It was the sight of a large mirror at the end that finally let her breathe a sigh of relief. The mirror had a carved silver frame that looked as if it had just been shined. Adrienne had always liked this mirror, not just because it was pretty, but it reminded her of _Through the Looking Glass_. Joe raised his wand and touched the very center of the mirror with the tip. The mirror began to ripple, first, small ripples originating in the center, and then, increasing in diameter as they moved to the very end of the frame.   
  
Joe took a step towards it, pocketing his wand, and the next second he was gone. Adrienne followed, Mia pushing her from behind. The soft feel of the illusion washed over her and suddenly Adrienne was in another room.  
  
Mia and Joe's living quarter was possibly Adrienne's favorite place to visit in the castle, not because it was exciting or mysterious, but because it was a comfortable and homey place to be. It was only two rooms and a bathroom, and Mia always complained that it was a little cramped. Adrienne, though, thought it was perfect.  
  
The mirror entrance led into the sitting room, which wasn't ornately decorated. A cream sofa and armchair sat in the middle, a small coffee table separating them. There were several piles of ungraded papers sitting atop it. The walls were covered with various shelves and bookcases, displaying Joe's impressive library and Mia's various dueling medals and trophies. Upon one wall, above a beautiful stone fireplace, were several framed newspaper articles discussing Mia's dueling titles. Among these clippings was also the clipping announcing Adrienne's win at the International Underage Dueling Championship the previous summer. Opposite the mirror entrance was the door that led into their bedroom.  
  
Adrienne didn't look around as they entered, nor did she say anything as Mia led her to the sofa and instructed her to sit down. All Adrienne was thinking about now was the implications of Hermione, Ron, and Harry coming to Salem. That just wouldn't do, she thought. It was a bad idea all together and extremely unsafe. If Voldemort found out   
"Ok Adrienne," Mia started as she and Joe sat down on either side of her.   
Adrienne leaned back into the sofa and titled her neck to stare up at the ceiling, her head still throbbing.  
  
"What is going on?" Mia whispered, sitting so she could look at Adrienne.  
  
"Yes, Adri, something's bothering you," Joe said in a soft voice. "Tell us about it."  
  
Adrienne blinked several times, trying to keep herself from crying.   
"I can't tell you," she finally replied in an unsteady voice, not looking at either one of them.  
  
Mia sighed and stared at Joe with heavy eyes.   
"Adrienne, you know you can tell us anything, right?" Mia asked in a soothing voice.   
Adrienne shook her head, not knowing what to say. If she could just tell them something, anything, then they could at least know what was going on, even if they couldn't help her.  
  
"Does it have something to do with Harry?" Joe suggested. "Did you two get in a fight?"  
  
Adrienne bit her lip.   
"We may have," she replied, still staring up at the ceiling.  
  
"But people always fight, it's part of our nature. Just look at me and Joe," Mia said, reaching over and putting a hand on Adrienne's shoulder.  
  
"Joe and I," Joe corrected without turning his gaze from Adrienne.  
  
Mia glared at him but didn't reply.   
"Ok, so you had a fight. What happened?" she prompted.  
  
"We stopped talking."  
  
"A little more information might be helpful," Mia said, slightly flustered, "like perhaps what this fight was over."  
  
Adrienne didn't answer right away. She was half-expecting Voldemort to jump in anytime now, but he must have been satisfied that his curse would keep her from saying anything incriminating. Adrienne opened her mouth to say 'because I told him I'm a Perfect,' but that wasn't what came out.  
  
"_Things_?" Joe exclaimed, losing his patience. "You're no longer talking to your brother because you fought about _things_? Adrienne, tell us the truth!"  
  
Adrienne raised a hand to her head and rubbed her eyes in frustration.   
"I can't!" she growled.  
  
"Damn it, Adrienne! I'm tired of this!" Joe shouted, jumping up and striding across the room.  
  
"Joe!" Mia warned, glaring at him. "You're not helping anything."  
  
"And neither are you!" Joe shot back, crossing his arms and staring into the dying embers of the fireplace. "Doesn't this bother you, Mia, her sudden fascination with withholding information from us?" he spat.  
  
Mia pouted slightly. "Of course it does, but we're not going to help her by yelling," she said softly.  
  
"How can we help her if she won't let us!" he snapped.  
  
"I'm still in the room," Adrienne miserably interrupted, her head beginning to pound more with his yelling.  
  
"We know, hon," Mia said, turning back to her. "How's your head?"  
  
Adrienne rolled her eyes.   
"It hurts," she said darkly, "how do you think it feels?"  
  
"You know what, I don't care what Dumbledore says!" Joe exclaimed apropos of nothing, flinging himself around to stare wide-eyed at Mia, who just groaned and collapsed onto the sofa, her head falling back to join Adrienne in staring at the ceiling.  
  
"Joe, we've discussed this," Mia started.  
  
"And we shouldn't have listened to that old codger," Joe exclaimed.  
  
"I call him Bumble-and-Snore," Adrienne muttered, feeling suddenly ornery.  
  
"Do not insult him!" Joe exclaimed, his face reddening. "He's your elder and you're to respect him. Have we taught you nothing about respect?"  
  
Adrienne looked away from the ceiling and stared at him, her vision still slightly blurry. "Well, if you mean by teaching through example, I may remind you that you just called him an old codger," she said icily.  
  
Mia tried to suppress a laugh.  
  
"That's beside the point!" Joe said waving Adrienne's statement aside. "Mia, we can't expect her to come clean with us if we don't come clean with her."  
  
Mia stopped laughing and sat up bolt, shaking her head, her eyes wide.   
"This is not the time, nor the place for this conversation, Joe," she hissed, her eyes flickering to Adrienne, who was now staring at Joe with interest.  
  
Joe didn't seem to hear Mia because he strode forward and kicked the coffee table to the side, sending the various papers flying everywhere as it scraped across the floor.  
  
"Joe, don't!" Mia shouted, jumping up as Joe reached down, grabbed Adrienne's left arm and yanked her to a standing position.  
  
"That hurt!" Adrienne whined as she tried to pull her arm form his grasp, but Joe held fast.  
  
"Joe, this isn't a good idea," Mia whispered.  
  
Joe stared at his wife for a second, his eyes narrowed in insubordination, warning her to keep her mouth shut. Mia slapped her forehead in anger and collapsed back onto the sofa, raising her other hand to her face.  
  
"Professor Glenn, you're hurting me," Adrienne said in a timid voice.   
Joe let go of her arm and reached for her right wrist, pulling it toward him.  
  
"You see this, Adrienne?" he asked as he turned her hand palm up, holding her fingers open with his other hand. Adrienne stared at the triangle shining dully in the flickering firelight.  
  
"I see it," she muttered, turning to look at him.  
  
Mia peaked through a crack between her fingers and watched in apprehension. Joe dropped Adrienne's hand.  
  
"Give me your wand," he ordered.  
  
"Why?" groaned Adrienne, feeling slightly dizzy. All she wanted was to lie down and sleep her headache away.  
  
"This won't be a negotiation," he replied in a dark tone, his eyes narrowing in frustration.   
Adrienne rolled her eyes and reached into her pocket. Her fingertips closed upon the long piece of wood and she pulled it out.  
  
"What's so important about my wand?" she asked wearily, taking a small step away from him.  
  
"Can I see it?" he asked without answering her question.   
  
Adrienne held her wand out to him.   
"Just don't break it, all right? I don't want to have to go buy a third wand," she muttered, watching him curiously as he raised it before him, scrutinizing it.  
  
"You sure this is what you want to do?" Mia asked, finally lowering her hands.  
  
"Let me see your hand," Joe said to Adrienne.   
Adrienne raised her left hand, even though she knew that wasn't what he meant. Joe glared at her.  
"Your _other_ hand, Adrienne."  
  
"Picky, picky," she mumbled as she raised her right hand before him, the palm facing up.   
Her eyes lingered on the triangle for a second before she turned them back to Joe. In the firelight his face looked much older than his twenty-eight years. Behind his frown and furrowed brow, Adrienne could tell he was quickly losing his nerve.  
  
"Joe, luv, Dumbledore knows what he's doing, trust him," Mia begged.   
  
Joe shook his head.   
"Adrienne, hold your wand, like you're going to cast a spell," he ordered in a hoarse voice.  
  
"_This_ is your big anti-Dumbledore campaign?" she asked in disbelief, but she obediently grabbed her wand, holding it with her fingertips.  
  
"Look at this, you're the only one I've ever seen hold their wand at the very end like that. You didn't do that before you left for Hogwarts" he said, reaching forward and pushing the wand further into her hand, so its end touched the middle of her palm.  
  
Suddenly, just as when she had first held her wand when Mr. Ollivander gave it to her, it started to glow. Adrienne looked up at Joe, waiting for his order for her to stop whatever she was doing, but it never came. The light grew brighter, and Mia slowly stood up from her seat, raised a hand to shield her eyes, and blindly walked forward until she was standing next to Adrienne. Adrienne's hand started to burn slightly and she bit her lip in pain, shutting her eyes to try to block out the blinding white light. And then, the light disappeared and the burning stopped. Adrienne opened her eyes in surprise, having to blink rapidly to again adjust to the dim lighting.  
  
"Oh dear," Mia murmured, raising a hand to her mouth.   
Adrienne looked down at her hand and dropped her jaw in surprise: Her wand was no longer there; she was holding onto thin air. Adrienne slowly opened her hand and raised it to her face, realizing that there was a fine layer of ash on some of her fingers.  
  
"Where's my wand?" she asked angrily, forgetting all about her headache.  
  
"This would have happened before if you hadn't changed your grip to that crazy, weak grip you've been using," Mia whispered.  
  
"What would have happened? What do you mean, my wand was just supposed to go and disintegrate – " but Adrienne suddenly stopped, remembering what Hermione had told her: Perfects couldn't use wands.  
  
Adrienne swallowed nervously and stared up at Joe, who looked slightly shocked. They stood in silence for a few minutes, the only sound filling their ears was the crackling of the fire. And then, right as Adrienne was going to ask where Joe was going with this wand thing, he finally spoke.  
  
"The art of Perfection, Adrienne it doesn't require the use of a wand," he whispered.  


  
  
*** * *  
**

  
"Do you think she'll be in her office?" Hermione asked as she, Harry, and Ron half walked, half ran, through the castle.  
  
"Where else would she be?" Ron asked irritably.   
  
This wasn't exactly how he wanted to spend his Saturday night tracking down crazy professors.  
  
"Well, there's the staff room, her private quarters, another professor's office, the Great Hall, the bathroom," began Hermione as they ascended the north-wing staircase.  
  
"We get the picture," Ron interrupted.  
  
"Do you have a plan, Hermione?" Harry asked, turning to look at her.   
  
"No," she replied, looking away.   
  
"All right, I got it. We break in, grab her, and threaten her with the Cruciatus Curse if she doesn't talk," Ron suggested, a strange manic glint in his eyes.  
  
Harry took a step away from him, a surprised expression on his face.   
  
"Yeah, and end up in Azkaban for the rest of our lives that'll really do a lot of good," he replied sardonically.  
  
Harry had been in the defense office every year since his second year. The styles of each professor had been drastically different, and now he wondered exactly what kind of decorator Professor Wallace was. The door to her office was shut, a dark blind pulled over the door's window.  
  
"Maybe she's asleep?" Ron suggested, bending down and trying to see through the crack between the drape and the sill of the window.  
  
"Or maybe she just likes her privacy," Hermione said as she reached up and knocked.   
  
"Do I have visitors? My, my, how fun!" came Professor Wallace's familiar voice.   
  
The door swung open to reveal the tall Defense mistress, wearing a bright yellow traveling cloak.  
  
"Do come in," she said, smiling cheerfully as she stepped back from the door to allow their entrance.   
  
Harry raised his eyebrows at Hermione as he motioned for her to go before him. Hermione smiled at Wallace and walked into the office.   
  
"Colorful," Ron drawled.  
  
The four walls of the room were each painted a different color: bright purple, magenta, jade, and an aqua blue. Harry slowly raised his head up the far wall until he was looking at the ceiling, which was painted black.   
  
"Make yourselves comfortable!" Wallace exclaimed, waving her hand before her, her inch-long silver nails glinting in the torchlight, which, surprising enough, had been charmed to glow a light blue color, making Harry feel like he was underwater.   
  
Harry turned his attention from the walls and looked around the room, looking for a place to sit.  
  
"Um, yes, where exactly should we sit?" he asked, turning to look at Professor Wallace, who had situated herself atop her desk, which looked suspiciously like a door, painted red, propped atop two bright green barrels with a hazardous waste sign painted on each.  
  
"Oh, I've forgotten chairs have I? You're my first visitors to my office this entire year never had the use until now," she said nonchalantly, picking her wand up from her desk and flicking it at the middle of the room. Three beanbag chairs appeared from thin air and flopped down upon the ground with an 'umpf.'   
  
Harry took a deep breath and watched with interest as Ron hung his head low to the ground to get a better look at them. And then, deciding to take the plunge, Ron turned around and fell into one, smiling.  
  
"What are these?" he asked, an excited smile engulfing his face.  
  
"Beanbag chairs," Hermione said flatly, turning to look at Professor Wallace, who had turned her attention to filing her nails. "Yes, I think I'll stand," Hermione said in a shocked voice.   
  
"Me too," agreed Harry.   
  
"To each their own," Wallace shrugged, looking up at them, smiling serenely. "And to what do I owe this pleasure?"   
  
Wallace jumped off her desk and straightened her traveling cloak. Hermione pursed her lips to keep from laughing upon realizing what Wallace was wearing. She was wearing a long, red sarong, which was placed low on her hips, exposing a belly ring. She had on a tight green beaded shirt. And over this was her yellow traveling cloak.   
  
"So, you like Muggle clothing?" Hermione couldn't restrain herself from asking.   
  
Wallace looked up at her. "Gotta I'm a Muggle-born," she answered.  
  
"We had a question for you," Harry interrupted, finally regaining his composure but still battling the mad urge to burst into laughter.  
  
"Shoot," Wallace said, putting her file down and looking at them with an attentive face.  
  
"That book you borrowed, I was looking through it earlier today," Hermione began, reaching into her robe. She pulled out the folded parchment. "This fell out of it."   
  
She held it out to Professor Wallace, who took curiously and began to unfold it.  
  
"Where do you get these chairs?" Ron asked, throwing his feet out before him and lounging with a relaxed expression.   
  
Harry looked back at him and smirked.  
  
"A Muggle store," he instructed.  
  
"They're dangerous for young children; a suffocation possibility," chastised Hermione.  
  
Ron rolled his eyes.   
  
"Don't think we have to worry about young children at my house wait, do you know something I don't know?" his eyes were wide and he had paled substantially.   
  
Hermione turned back to look at him, trying not to laugh. "No, sorry to disappoint you, Ron."   
  
Ron breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"That goodness! Seven are enough," he exhaled.  
  
Hermione and Harry turned back around to look at Professor Wallace, who hadn't even looked at the parchment yet and was instead staring at Ron with an entertained face. Hermione cleared her throat.  
  
"Oh, yes, sorry about that I have the worst attention span!" she exclaimed, looking back down at the parchment.   
  
Her face suddenly dropped its happy-go-lucky expression. Wallace looked up, her face now impassive.  
  
"Where did you get this?" she asked shortly.  
  
"It was in the book," Harry replied. "Hermione said you were the last one to use it."  
  
Professor Wallace stood up abruptly and refolded it.   
  
"Well, it isn't mine. I have no idea what it means," she said, her voice clipped and strained.  
  
Hermione and Harry glanced at each other and then turned to watch her stride across her office to an open window.  
  
"Well, it must have been you. You _were_ the last one to look at it," Hermione argued.  
  
Professor Wallace whipped around, her purple eyes wide. She raised the parchment before her.   
  
"This?" she whispered softly, her lip muscles twitching, as if she were battling with what to say, "was not meant for your eyes."  
  
"Then it is true?" Harry exclaimed, striding forward, his green eyes flaming. "Why weren't we told!"  
  
"And what would that serve, to tell you that there is a prophecy about you. There is no purpose in that. The knowledge of this prophecy would not aid you in the least," she said softly.  
  
"But that means Adrienne is a Perfect," Harry reasoned.  
  
Wallace laughed. "Why do you think she is? What if it's you?"  
  
"But I'm not," he said slowly, "and, even if I was, I would have wanted to know. I would have wanted to know if my sister is one too."  
  
Wallace shook her head and pocketed the piece of paper. "She already knows, I'm sure of it. Why tell her?"  
  
"Why not?" Ron argued, standing up from his chair, his face slightly red. "She's my girlfriend, you should have told her." He said this as if her being his girlfriend made all the difference.  
  
"It makes it harder for her if she knows that we know," Wallace explained.  
  
"Why? I'd think it would make it easier, let her know she isn't alone," Hermione snapped, narrowing her eyes in protest.  
  
"But she is alone, Miss Granger, just as much as Potter is alone in his dealing with his past. No one can relate to what he's experienced. He can't really turn to anyone, can you, Harry?"  
  
Harry blushed and looked away. But she was right. He tried to talk very little about how he felt about his parents' death, Wormtail's betrayal, what had happened that night in the cemetery. He couldn't put into words all his feelings and had just decided to keep them inside.  
  
"Perfects are not highly thought of today, are they? Sure, theoretically it'd be great to have all the power they have, theoretically, that is. In actuality, Adrienne will never really use her powers, and partly because there is no one to teach her, partly because, well she already knows the implication of her abilities on her separation from the Dark Arts – "  
  
"Who's explained this all to her? You? Dumbledore?" Harry asked, suddenly quite angry. She was acting as if teenagers frequently popped up with weird magical quirks.  
  
"No she's been explained through, er, other means," Wallace stuttered.   
  
She nervously checked the ends of her cloak arms, making Harry think that she was making sure they were low enough, but why?  
  
"But she is a Perfect?" Harry clarified.   
  
Wallace nodded. "Yes, Adrienne the Perfect nice ring, don't you think?"   
  
"NICE RING!?" Ron exclaimed, crossing his arms. "That's all you have to say nice ring!"  
  
Professor Wallace scowled and turned to look at Harry. "Harry, has Dumbledore ever led you wrong before?"  
  
Harry didn't respond. Dumbledore had never done anything to lose Harry's trust, but why not tell them about the prophecy?  
  
"He doesn't tell you everything because there are times for every revelation. And it wouldn't do to have you know about Adrienne being a Perfect from the beginning. They weren't even sure right away, they weren't even sure she was your sister at first. There have been instances of people looking almost identical even when they aren't related. He has his reasons for not explaining everything, trust him."  
  
Hermione shook her head. "But this has been bothering Adrienne. It must be horrible for her to think first that those attacks at Salem happened because of her, and now to think that she could possibly be known as an outcast just because she can do magic differently. She's afraid this is torture to her."  
  
Professor Wallace looked straight past Hermione and stared into Harry's eyes. "What doesn't kill her makes her stronger."  
  
"Oh, let's make Adrienne stronger! Now that sounds like a grand idea! She's already been expelled for showing her strength you now want to make her stronger?" Ron exclaimed. "My poor mind"  
  
"No! You're missing the point! She's weak. Admit it! She's weak. And as long as she's weak, she's a threat to us all." Wallace said, her voice low, her hands on her hips. There's a difference between you and her, Harry, a big difference. You're strong, stronger than she will ever be. And as a Perfect or not, she's no use to us if she is weak willed. What doesn't kill her makes her stronger."  
  
"So you're torturing her?" Hermione asked, flabbergasted.   
  
"Everything will be explained," Wallace replied, walking toward the door.  
  
"Did you plant that parchment, to let us figure it out? That was a waste of time, you could have just told us," Ron said, "Stupid idea, really."  
  
Wallace turned around, her hand on the doorknob. "No, I didn't plant it I was using it as a page-marker. Kind of forgot I was using it, didn't I?" she said sardonically. "Adrienne is fine, don't worry about her."  


  
  
*** * *  
**

  
"Adrienne, it's after midnight!" The hangings on Adrienne's left suddenly were flung to the side and a shadowy face appeared in its place. "There's my wand! I was wondering what happened to it!"  
  
Adrienne looked sheepishly down at the oak wand she was holding in her teeth, lit so she could read. It wasn't her fault she no longer had a wand to call her own, it was Professor Glenn's and his stupid Perfect test idea. Professors Glenn and Hartel had gone on that night to tell her that Dumbledore had informed them about her being a Perfect when they had visited Hogwarts, but made them promise not to tell her, saying she'd find out when she was ready. Obviously Joe decided that Dumbledore didn't know what he was talking about, and had taken it upon himself to inform her about her hidden abilities. Adrienne played along, letting them think she had no idea she was a Perfect, because, she rationalized, she couldn't really discuss being a Perfect with them without Voldemort removing the curse, or allowing her to suddenly discuss all her problems. So, she had spent the first three weeks of May explaining away her lack of wand by saying she lost it, and sharing one with Erica whenever she needed to do magic. This lack of a wand was a rather humbling experience in her mind. She really had been used to using magic to clean up messes, do her hair, lift heavy objects, and now she could only use magic to do those things when Erica wasn't using her wand, or like tonight, when Erica was asleep.  
  
Adrienne pulled Erica's wand from her mouth and embarrassedly wiped it off on her pajamas.   
  
"Sorry about that," Adrienne mumbled, handing the lit wand back to her friend.   
  
Erica climbed onto the bed and settled herself cross-legged at the foot, letting the hangings fall closed around them.  
  
"No big deal," Erica replied, but Adrienne noticed she was holding her wand at its middle and not at the end as was usual. "Question though, when do you plan on getting a new wand?" Erica asked.   
  
Adrienne closed the book and placed her hands atop it to cover the title.   
  
"Maramy's Wands never came back to the Gallows so the closest wand store is in Georgia. Georgia's a bit further away from the Gallows. I'll have to wait until summer break," Adrienne replied.  
  
"But didn't some guy come to you at Hogwarts to sell you another wand?" Erica asked, scooting forward so there'd be more light for each of them. "Oh, I heard Professors Glenn and Hartel talking about that they said he was kind of creepy," Erica said, answering Adrienne's question before she could ask it.  
  
"Yeah, but he lives in England; it'd be quite a trip, Apparating all the way here just to sell me a measly wand," she replied. "I'll just have to wait."  
  
Erica nodded and turned her attention to the book sitting in Adrienne's lap. "So 'Miss I-Hate-Reading' is sacrificing her beauty sleep to read? What's the title?"  
  
Adrienne looked down at her book and then hesitantly picked it up and showed it to Erica.  
  
"_Complete Control: The Imperious Curse_ hmm, sounds interesting," Erica replied sarcastically.  
  
"Yeah, well, you remember how bad I was at fighting it last year. I thought I'd try and improve by reading about it," Adrienne lied, shrugging her shoulders. "It's actually kind of interesting."  
  
"Wait, it has a Hogwarts library tag on the front," Erica noted, she began to laugh. "What, so attached to it that you had to steal it?"  
  
Adrienne glared at her. "I forgot to turn it back it."  
  
"Well, you can send it back with one of the Hogwarts kids when they come next week."  
  
Adrienne's smile fell. She did not want them coming to Salem, especially not Harry, it wasn't safe she wasn't safe.  
  
"Yeah, I could do that," Adrienne agreed.  
  
"You know what I think, Adri?" Erica whispered, leaning forward.   
  
Adrienne raised her eyebrows. "What?"  
  
"We're going to win, definitely," Erica smiled, racing her shoulders in excitement. "I mean, hate to brag but we're good."  
  
"But the Hogwarts team will be good too," Adrienne replied, suddenly feeling very defensive of Hogwarts.  
  
Erica shook her head. "But I heard they had to take players from their House teams that their team for next week has only been practicing together for less than a month we have it in the bag."  
  
Adrienne rolled her eyes. "But all the players are really good let's see, the last letter I got from my friends there"   
  
She had actually written them back this time. It had been a group letter from Harry, Hermione, and Ron, saying that they needed to talk to her, and that Madam Pince wanted her book back. Adrienne had told them that she needed to talk to them too, but in reality she was planning on conveniently sneaking off to the Gallows that weekend, so not to have to see them.   
  
"The Beaters are from the House I was in, Gryffindor Fred and George Weasley. The Keeper is the Hufflepuff Keeper, Jonas Hunter; he was really good, the best Keeper in the entire school. There's Montegue and Volstechy from Slytherin, and Garland from Ravenclaw: They're the Chasers. And then the Seeker, that's Harry Potter and he's-"  
  
"Oh swoon!" Erica exclaimed, raising a hand to her forehead. "I simply love Harry Potter; he can be my prince in shining armor any day."  
  
Adrienne raised a hand to try to muffle her laughter.  
  
"Come on, Adrienne, don't tell me that when you were at Hogwarts you weren't secretly wishing he was seeing you," Erica whispered, grinning widely.  
  
Adrienne laughed harder.   
  
"I can safely say, Erica, that I never ever wished that, hoped that, or kept my fingers crossed that that would happen. Really, I might be sick," Adrienne whined.  
  
"Adrienne Lily Miles! You are such a liar! Come on, if he looks as cute as he does in those articles from last year, how could you not think that?" Erica exclaimed.  
  
"Believe me, I have a perfectly good reason for not thinking that and I'm not about to explain. And, Erica, I wouldn't think Hogwarts to be a pushover; be careful, or they'll wipe the pitch with you."  
  
"Can I ride your Firebolt?" Erica asked suddenly, and then her face darkened. "Or, do you not feel a loyalty to us anymore? Think me riding it would give Salem an unfair advantage?"  
  
Adrienne narrowed her eyes. "You don't honestly think that, do you?"  
  
"Well, Adrienne, I don't know you're boyfriend does go to that school. And you did look pretty bummed to be back," Erica said, looking away, suddenly wishing she hadn't said anything.  
  
"Give me a break, Erica I'm going to be neutral at the game."  
  
Erica didn't look thrilled about this either. "Well, as long as you're not cheering for _them_. But I'm tired. See you tomorrow. Nox."   
  
The light died away and Adrienne could feel Erica get off the bed and hear the hangings swing back into their place.   
  
Adrienne pulled her knees to her chest and put her head atop them.   
  
"Personally I got 50 galleons on Hogwarts with Professor Glenn, so they better win," she whispered into the dark.   


  
  
* * *  


  
"Who's missing?"  
  
Lucius took a step forward from his place in line and gazed down the long row of Death Eaters. He shrugged his shoulders and stepped back into place, deciding that it can be Voldemort's lucky job to try and identify everyone without seeing their faces.  
  
"I'm counting 76 or am I counting wrong?" Voldemort asked in a low voice, tapping his fingers irritably on the arm of his chair. "WHO IS MISSING!"  
  
"Severus couldn't escape tonight – seems there was an accident in the lab earlier today. I think he's covered in boils," Lucius said boldly.  
  
"I've already accounted for him, but someone else is missing."  
  
There was a patter of feet and then suddenly a figure appeared in the doorway. Voldemort turned in his chair, his eyes blazing angrily.  
  
"You are late! You are not late when I call you!" he hissed, standing up, his head bent low.   
  
"Yes, well, had a little complication," said a feminine voice. W bowed slightly and took a step forward. "But Master, I have interesting news about the Potter boy."  
  
Voldemort didn't seem impressed by this. He slowly reached into his robes and withdrew his wand, staring at her with a face of mock interest.  
  
"Oh, really. And that's why you were late? Because you think you found something about him that I don't already know?"   
  
"I thought, I thought it" W stuttered, obviously surprised that her piece of information didn't intrigue him at all.  
  
"You thought? Did I say you could think? Did I say you could speak before me? Did I or did I not order your attendance, and you are late?" he drawled.   
  
Some Death Eaters shifted uncomfortably, others smiled under their masks, wondering if her death would be an entertaining one. Voldemort took another step closer to her, expecting her to take a step away or at least start apologizing profusely, even maybe beg for her life. W, however, didn't do any of this. She crossed her arms before her and took a step toward him.  
  
"Potter knows about Adrienne being a Perfect wasn't his not knowing essential for her to cooperate?" she asked boldly.   
  
Voldemort stopped walking, clearly surprised, and then he laughed.   
  
"Does she know he knows? Besides, it doesn't matter. She'll do whatever I tell her to it doesn't matter," he said quietly. "So really, that wasn't an excuse for being late, was it?"   
  
This time W took a step backwards, uncrossing her arms, clearly having lost her nerve.   
  
"But you meant well, didn't you? You had the good of the cause in mind, didn't you?" he asked, taking another step closer to her. "I applaud that." He pocketed his wand and then, before W could even take another breath, had hit her around the face. She spun around, completely unprepared for it.  
  
"You'll show more respect next time, won't you?" he growled.   
  
W straightened up, raising a hand to her face.   
  
"I'm sorry, My Lord," she muttered.   
  
"Louder," he demanded.  
  
"I'm sorry, My Lord!" she repeated.   
  
"Go back to your place in line, now!"   
  
W turned and walked purposefully toward the end of the line.  
  
"Now that we're all here," Voldemort began, his red eyes falling viciously on W, "this weekend, Harry Potter will be at Salem, where his sister is. Lucius, I assume you've gained possession of all the ingredients necessary?"  
  
"Yes, Master. The potion will be ready in time for the game," Lucius replied.  
  
"Excellent." Voldemort looked around at his followers, a thin, lipless smile engulfing his face. "This Saturday, my loyal Death Eaters, once again the world will face our wrath. Once again we will obtain our rightful rule. The world will cower before us, just like before."   
  
Several minutes later, W began to file out of the chamber along with the Death Eaters ahead of her. She had almost reached the chamber's door when someone grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.   
  
"Just one more thing."   
  
Voldemort was standing behind her, his face expressionless, his eyes cold.  
  
"Yes Master?" W asked, wondering if her voice was shaking at all, or if it was just her imagination.   
  
Voldemort pulled her closer, his fingers digging into her collarbone.  
  
"Perhaps you know too much about the plan?" he asked coolly, his eyes boring into hers.  
  
"Perhaps I should know more than I do," she replied. "Obviously I seem to be the least informed of all here."  
  
"You and Snape," Voldemort corrected, still staring at her contemplatively.   
  
"You don't seem to trust him," she responded, reaching up and prying his hand from her shoulder. "Why?"  
  
"For the same reason I don't trust you. You work for Dumbledore," Voldemort hissed, taking a step away from her.  
  
"And your point being?" she pressed, smirking behind her mask.  
  
"My point being, Wallace, that the less you know, the less of a liability you are."   
  
Voldemort reached into his robes and pulled out his wand. Professor Lindsay Wallace didn't have any time to react, and her eyes widened in fear, waiting for her death to come but it didn't.   
  
"Obliviate," Voldemort snapped, and a white jet of light burst from his wand, hitting her square between the eyes. Professor Wallace took a step backwards, an awkward hand flying to her head in pain.   
  
"We were discussing our annual Death Eater banquet you fell while demonstrating how to dance," Voldemort said dully as she looked at him through dazed eyes. "You should return to Hogwarts now, they might miss you soon."  
  
"Yes, My Lord," she whispered, turned, and walked from the room. "Since when do we have Death Eater banquets?" she murmured.   


  
  
*** * *  
**

  
"We're supposed to be in lines!" Hermione called out, her irritated voice getting lost in the clamor of voices projecting through the corridors.  
  
"Don't think anyone heard you, Hermione," Ron said with satisfaction, a large smile plastered upon his face.  
  
"And what are you so happy about?" Hermione asked begrudgingly.   
  
Even though her gleaming Prefect badge was sitting upon her chest, not one of the Gryffindors were listening to her directions for them to line up as McGonagall had instructed the day before.   
  
"Oh, just thinking about what I'm going to do once I get to Salem," he said dreamily.  
  
"You're going to sit in the stands and cheer for Hogwarts and yell me encouragement," Harry said quietly.   
  
He was walking next to Ron, his Firebolt held close to his body to prevent it from being knocked by the surrounding students.   
  
"Of course _that_," Ron said, "but more importantly, talk to Adrienne."  
  
"Please! We all are to be lined up before exiting the castle!" Hermione yelled, her hands cupped at her mouth, hoping to project her voice.   
Not one person turned around or made any action to try to follow her order. She narrowed her eyes.   
  
"Well, you better hope she doesn't have to sit with her Professors, especially not that Glenn guy, he has it out for you," she said to Ron through pursed lips. Then, her hands on her hips, she strode away.  
  
Ron groaned. "I forgot all about him!" he whined. "Now what do I do?"  
  
"Smile pleasantly at him and portray yourself as a gentleman. He may feel less lousy about cursing you if you come off as a well-bred young man," Harry suggested, walking upon his tiptoes and trying not to laugh as Hermione had finally reached the front of the Gryffindor students, where Dennis Creevey was hopping up and down excitedly and yelling something at Fred and George, who both had very mischievous expressions upon their faces.   
  
"This is a line!" Hermione yelled as she grabbed Dennis and Fred by the collars and pulled them into a line behind George. No one seemed to respond to her demonstration and kept chatting wildly, trying to push past her.   
  
Hermione scowled. "If you don't fall into line, you get to sit with me at the game!"  
  
That did it. The students instantly fell silent and all heads turned to look at her as she continued to hold Fred and Dennis into place behind George. And then, there was a mad rush to fall into line, several first years sending horrified looks at Hermione, whose eyes were wide in anger and her hair hanging down in her face from her attempt to pull Fred, who had put up quite the fight. Satisfied with the line, she nodded, raised an eyebrow to warn everyone to stay in their place, and then walked to the back, where Ron and Harry were bringing up the rear.  
  
"A little touchy today?" Ron asked as she walked by, her hands tangled in her hair, trying to pull it back out of her face.  
  
"She's nervous," Harry corrected, trying not to smile.  
  
"I most definitely am not!" Hermione exclaimed as they entered the Entrance Hall.  
  
"You are too," he replied, turning to look at her so he wouldn't have to see Cho as they walked past the Ravenclaws, who were waiting for their turn to file out of the castle.  
  
"What, afraid someone at Salem might know more than you?" Ron asked innocently.   
  
Hermione promptly stomped on his foot in reply.   
  
"You don't have to get violent about it," he mumbled through gritted teeth.  
  
"I don't see what you're nervous about you're not the one playing," Harry remarked as they neared the large Entrance Doors.   
  
"No, I'm just the one who declared Adrienne to be a pathological liar," Hermione said briskly. "I feel a bit lousy now."  
  
"As you should," chastised Ron in a righteous tone.   
  
Hermione made to stomp on his foot again, but Harry held her back.  
  
"You should talk! You didn't believe her either," Hermione hissed, shrugging off Harry's restraining hands.  
  
"I was brainwashed by a certain Prefect," Ron commented loftily.  
  
"This could be a long day," Harry mumbled, stepping directly between Hermione and Ron so they couldn't see one another.  
  
"This isn't going to work," Professor Flitwick said in a pessimistic voice, his small blue eyes roaming frantically over the throng of Gryffindor students pouring excitedly form the Entrance Doors.   
  
They were wearing their black school robes and carrying various signs, all enchanted with color changing spells so that the various pro-Hogwarts slogans flashed in prism colors.  
  
"Entropy," Professor Vector mumbled gloomily, her hooded eyes narrowed in horror at he chaotic sight before her, "this is a perfect model of entropy."  
  
"Please stand with your Houses! Keep the lines, please keep the lines!" Professor McGonagall called, the magical megaphone usually used by Lee at the games, held up to her thin lips. "This is ridiculous," she snapped, lowering the megaphone.  
  
"Oh, but isn't it fun?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly as he strode toward her. He was wearing majestic purple robes and a purple hat with gold trim sat squarely atop his silver hair.  
  
McGonagall blinked at him and then frowned. "This is madness."  
  
Dumbledore smiled jovially and held out his arm for the megaphone.  
  
"Oh, by all means, you try and organize them all," she exclaimed, flustered.  
  
Dumbledore turned to face the entrance steps and waited for the orderly Gryffindor line to finish exiting the castle, Hermione Granger, her arms crossed, bringing up the rear.  
  
"Silence. Can we have silence?" Dumbledore's voice resonated through the crowd, and slowly the roar of teenage voices died down, and a sea of excited faces fixated themselves on the Headmaster. "Today is an exciting day, and a first for Hogwarts."   
  
Dumbledore looked around at the students, who, miraculously, had maintained some sort of linear formation.   
  
"But before we begin our journey I'd like to review a few rules," he raised his graying eyebrows at the many groans and waited for the student's protests to subside. "First, we are guests at the Salem Academy, and thus must act upon our most formal behaviors. This means respecting both your fellow students and the Salem students and following your professors' orders as well as the Salem professors' orders. We will arrive there in time for a lunch picnic and you all will then have several free hours to socialize. There will be no traveling to the Gallows. At five the Quidditch match will begin, and following the ending, we will begin our journey back."   
  
Dumbledore turned around to nod at the Professors lined up behind him, each carrying a large cardboard box.   
  
"The professors are coming around with boxes of buttons, enchanted into port-keys. For those of you who haven't traveled by port-key before, it is nothing to get your socks tied about. Just pick up the button and the charm begins. The Salem Professors will be waiting for your arrival, and we will follow once all of you have left. Enjoy the day and remember, best behavior!"  
  
Harry, Hermione, and Ron stood silently as the Professors fanned out from behind Dumbledore, each carrying a small box, and heading toward the ends of each respective line.   
  
"Well, just think, a few minutes and we'll be halfway across the world," Ron said thoughtfully, his eyes fixated upon Professor Wallace, who was walking their way.  
  
"Were you tired of your hair-style?" Hermione asked as she approached.   
  
Wallace shrugged and smiled.   
  
"Well, since we are supposed to be impressing our associates over there, thought maybe blue hair might put them off a bit," she said, adjusting her grip on the box.   
  
"I thought you were a blonde?" Ron asked abruptly, staring at her reddish-black hair.  
  
"Bleach, wonderful thing," she said as she held the box toward them. "Now, enjoy the day, and say hi to your little friend for me."  
  
Harry was the first to reach into the box and enclose his fingers upon one of the shiny black buttons laying rest in it, and then, the familiar hooking feeling behind his navel took root, and his feet flew from the ground. And then, as suddenly as it had started, it all stopped and he was lying face down in grass.  
  
"Come on, boy, let's get you up, or someone may come raining down upon you," said a soft voice above him.   
  
Harry quickly jumped up, brushed the grass from his school robes, and then turned to look at the tall professor standing next to him.  
  
"The names Meagan O'Reilly," she said, reaching for his hand to shake it.   
  
"Nice to meet you," Harry said wearily, suddenly realizing that he'd have to introduce himself to everyone he met, which was suddenly sounding like a daunting task. "I'm Harry."  
  
Professor O'Reilly smiled, her eyes lingering for a moment on his scar, but she didn't say anything, and quickly turned her attention to the large amount of students in black robes that were suddenly appearing face down upon the ground.   
  
"Hermione?" Harry called, tightening his grip on his Firebolt and running forward to pull her off the ground, then turning is attention to Ron.  
  
"Sickening things, really," Ron muttered, narrowing his eyes at the button. "What we do with these things anyway?"  
  
Hermione pointed to a large bin standing before them, the words 'port-keys' painted upon it.   
  
"You have to turn it in, so it can be reactivated," she said knowingly, striding forward and tossing hers inside it.   
  
Harry and Ron followed, each wondering when they missed those instructions.  
  
"So," Hermione began once they had left the arrival area, "seems we have some time before the game."  
  
"Yeah," Ron agreed, standing up on his tiptoes to stare around the large Salem grounds, his eyes searching for a hint of black hair, but to his immense disappointment, there were many girls with black hair roaming around. "Where do you think she is?"  
  
"She said she'd meet us," Hermione replied, she too standing up on her tiptoes to try and discern Adrienne from the crowd of green robes that were slowly beginning to mingle with the black robed students.  
  
Harry turned around, his eyes falling upon the entrance steps to the Salem castle.   
  
"We could go there," he said, pointing to the steps, "And then we could see everyone."  


  
  
*** * *  
  
**

"Adrienne, they're here," Mia called from her bedroom, her voice somewhat muffled from the closed door.   
  
"Goody," Adrienne replied dully, turning the page in _Dueler's Weekly_. "Professor Hartel, get this! Bradley Parrin, he duels with a birch wand!" she exclaimed.  
  
"Yeah, the only one I know who can do that those birch wands are so very weak," Mia said as she emerged from her bedroom, straightening her indigo robes. "Adrienne! What are you doing?"  
  
Adrienne was sitting on Mia's sofa, her feet hanging over the back, her head hanging over the seat, the magazine held over her head.   
  
"Reading," Adrienne replied nonchalantly, turning the page. "And Jasmine Lycé, I told you she teaches at Hogwarts, right?"   
  
Adrienne turned her head, which was quite red, to look at Mia.  
  
"Yes, she teaches the new dueling course, I think you've mentioned it, oh, more than several times," Mia said, a tinge of annoyance in her voice that Adrienne didn't pick up.   
  
"She duels with a sycamore wand a sycamore wand, I didn't even know they made those," Adrienne said, turning back to her magazine.  
  
"_I_ duel with a sycamore wand," Mia said darkly, striding forward and grabbing the magazine from Adrienne's hands.  
  
"Hey! I wasn't done with that yet!" Adrienne cried, rolling off the sofa, careful to avoid the coffee table.  
  
"Well, I bought it," Mia replied, searching anxiously through the pages. "Ah ha! Here I am Mia Enid Hartel-Glenn." She looked up at Adrienne, a smug smile on her face. "Let's see what it says about me, shall we?"   
  
She cleared her throat and began to skim the page.   
  
"This has to be my favorite part: 'At Seventeen, Mia Hartel was the youngest and first girl to ever claim the International Dueling Championship, out-dueling Henry Blogsford with a spectacular and original use of the Tarantellegra Hex.'"  
  
"I've heard this before," Adrienne said, rolling her eyes and smiling at her Professor, whose smug smile had widened into a proud grin.   
  
"Oh, look, I'm said to be one of the most accomplished duelers to ever compete at the International Circuit," she said, haughtily.  
  
"All right, enough of you, see if I'm in there," Adrienne said eagerly, running forward to look on with Mia.   
  
"Fine," she grumbled, turning the pages, looking for Adrienne's name. "Here, let's see: 'The bubbly, if overly clumsy, Adrienne L. Miles, wowed the Magical world with her spectacular mastery of the dueling art at the 1995 Underage International Dueling Championships.' Then there's some boring stuff about your life in a Muggle orphanage, and look, now we're to the good part: 'Miles is under the dueling instruction of master dueler, Mia Hartel-Glenn.'"  
  
"You're so full of yourself, Professor Hartel!" Adrienne laughed, grabbing the magazine from her hands.   
  
Mia watched her with amusement as Adrienne flopped back down on the couch.  
  
"Your head still bothering you, Adri?" Mia asked, bending down as Adrienne raised a hand to head in pain.   
  
"Nah, not much, just aches sometimes," she muttered, lowering her hand and turning her attention back to the magazine.   
  
Ever since her fall in the Cafeteria, her head had been bothering her.  
  
"You sure?" Mia pressed.  
  
"Of course, now let me read I'm to Mallory Makavoich I hate her," Adrienne grumbled.   
  
Mia straightened up and pulled her sleeve up to look at her watch.   
  
"Adrienne, hate to tell you, but we're late. I was supposed to be down there welcoming the Hogwarts students over fifteen minutes ago," Mia sighed. "We better go."  
  
"Where's Professor Glenn?" Adrienne asked as she stood up, throwing _Dueler's Weekly_ back onto the sofa.  
  
"Joe had some stuff to do concerning all this Port-key business," Mia replied as she and Adrienne walked through the mirror and entered the empty corridor.   
  
They walked in silence, Adrienne playing nervously with the hem of her sleeves, casting quick glances up at Mia, who wasn't looking at her. As they neared the Entrance Hall, the voices of the thousand plus students mingling out on the grounds could be heard vibrating down the corridors. Adrienne stopped suddenly.  
  
"Professor, I forgot something up in my dormitory, I have to run back and get it," she said calmly, her shaking hands hidden behind her.   
  
Mia turned, a curious expression on her face.   
  
"Here, I'll go up with you then," she answered, turning around.  
  
Adrienne shook her head.   
  
"No, it's ok, you're all ready late. I'll catch up in a few minutes," she said. "Go on out, Professor, and be bossy."   
  
"I am not bossy," Mia said, but she smiled. "Fine, I'll see you in a few minutes, but don't take too long, Adri, you don't want to miss all the fun."   
  
"Don't worry about me!" Adrienne called behind her as she jogged back through the castle, casting glances back to make sure Mia hadn't decided to follow anyway.   
  
Her dormitory was completely empty and the window looking over the grounds was open. Adrienne quickly walked toward it, stopping right before it. She stared out over the grounds. Hundreds of students were standing below, clad in emerald and black robes. The older ones were standing in groups, some of the younger ones running around wildly, playing tag. Adrienne's eyes searched the crowds, trying to make out a spot of flaming red hair, but she couldn't find any. She slowly stepped back from her window.  
  
"This bites," she moaned, turning around and staring at her empty dormitory. "I have a really bad feeling."   
  
She wrapped her arms around herself and walked over to her bed, falling backwards onto it, making herself comfortable.   
  
"I'm not going down there. I'm not. I'm not speaking to them. I'm not finding them," she instructed herself. "He's safer with me in here."  
  
She had been planning on escaping to the Gallows, but realized that since the only way to reach the Gallows was by walking through the grounds, she'd for sure be spotted by someone.   
_  
'So, child, how's the reunion?'   
_  
Adrienne sat up straight in bed.   
  
"Not you again!" she hissed, crossing her arms before herself.   
_  
'Have you spoken to your brother yet today?'_ Voldemort asked, his voice soft.  
  
"I plead the Fifth," Adrienne replied.  
_  
'Have you already forgotten our agreement? I ask you a question and you answer, or must I force you to do that too?'_ Voldemort hissed.  
  
"I have a bad headache already; you're only making it worse. Can't we reschedule this conversation, say for another time, maybe fifty years from now," she remarked tiredly.  
_  
'If your request is to reschedule, then I believe I can grant you that this one time. I'll be speaking to you later, tonight. Bring your brother with you.'  
_  
And then, Adrienne's mind cleared. "That wasn't exactly what I meant," she whispered.  
  
"Are you sure this is the way?"  
  
Adrienne turned slowly in her bed, her jaw dropping in disbelief.  
  
"No way," she mumbled, jumping up from her bed and searching for her Firebolt, thinking she could jump from the window. "No! I loaned it to Erica!"   
  
"Professor Hartel said you couldn't miss it; it's the only dormitory door with a poster of Lockhart."   
  
Adrienne was sure of it, that was Hermione's voice.   
  
"Is it just me, or is Lockhart wearing a bathing suit?"   
  
And that was Harry.  
  
"Oh no," Adrienne drawled, staring at the door with a horrified expression. "Go away," she hissed, her eyes scanning the room for somewhere to hide. "It's better if you just stay away from me go away!"  
  
"It looks like he's just tamed a Kelpie," Hermione commented.  
  
"Wait, does that Kelpie look unusually one-dimensional?" Harry asked, his voice wafting through the closed door.  
  
"I think the moron's riding a cardboard kelpie!" Ron shouted, laughing suddenly. "What a good-for-nothing show off! Really a shame, isn't it, that he got his memory back?"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed the door to Dormitory Five open.   
  
"Adrienne?" she called.  
  
"Looks a little empty," Ron said as he walked in, stroking is chin in thought. "Didn't that professor of hers say she was going to be in her dormitory?"  
  
"Yeah," Harry answered, walking forward.   
  
Adrienne tilted her head slightly to the side, just enough to see Harry's feet stop at the window. Note to self, clean under the bed sometime soon, she thought.   
  
"Look at all those people," Harry said in amazement. "This is mad! I can't believe they got this all together."  
  
"Who did they send your permission slip to anyway?" Hermione asked.   
  
Adrienne could now see her black school shoes standing next to Harry's.  
  
"Sirius I suppose," Harry commented nonchalantly.  
  
"I wonder where Adrienne is?"  
  
Adrienne didn't have to turn to look to see where Ron was, because the sinking of the bed atop her told her exactly what he was doing.  
  
"I can't breathe," Adrienne whispered to herself.   
  
"Maybe she's down there looking for us, we could have missed her while walking up here," Hermione said, reaching up and pulling her hair into a ponytail.  
  
"We wouldn't have missed her if you hadn't insisted on trying to run off and find the house elves. Good thing Harry caught the back of your robes, or you'd have spent all day interrogating them," Ron snapped.   
  
He was lying atop Adrienne's bed and staring into the canopy above.  
  
I really need to clean under here, Adrienne thought, wrinkling her nose at all the dust flying around from Ron falling atop the bed.   
  
"Ron, I just wanted to see the house-elves," Hermione snapped, turning around to glare at him.  
  
"Achoo!"   
  
Harry turned around in surprise.   
  
"Who sneezed?" Ron asked, sitting up and staring at his two friends.  
  
"I didn't sneeze," Hermione said.  
  
"Me either," said Harry. He slowly walked away from the window and stared around the room.   
  
"Maybe it was ghost?" Ron suggested.   
  
"Ghosts don't sneeze!" Hermione said, shaking her head.   
  
She walked over and sat down next to Ron.  
  
"Achoo!"  
  
Harry stopped walking and slowly bent down, his eyes scanning the floor, first to his left, and then to his right, finally stopping on the last bed in the corner.   
  
"Adrienne! What are you doing?" he asked in surprise, realizing that the something under the far bed had black hair and was wearing green robes.  
  
I'm caught, Adrienne thought.   
  
"Looking for dust bunnies?" she suggested in a muffled voice. "I was thinking about starting a collection."   
  
"Adrienne!" Suddenly Ron's face appeared upside-down at her side, smiling broadly. "Why didn't you say anything before?"  
  
"Someone was sitting on my chest! I couldn't really breathe," she lied.  
  
"Oh, right."   
  
Ron and Hermione slid off the bed and watched as Adrienne inched out from under it, covered from head to toe in dust. She looked sheepishly at them and then smiled unsurely.  
  
"So, how do you like Salem?" she asked, looking away and trying to brush away the dust.  
  
"Is there a reason you were hiding under the bed?" Hermione asked, walking forward to help clean her off.  
  
"I already told you, trying to start a dust-bunny collection. But, I didn't find any rabbits under my bed. I think people lied to me," Adrienne said in a long-suffering voice.  
  
"You do know that dust-bunnies aren't real rabbits, don't you?" Hermione asked, a tinge of amusement in her voice.  
  
Adrienne's jaw dropped in protest.   
  
"Really? No way! What a disappointment" she moaned.   
  
"We missed you," Ron exclaimed, stepping forward to hug her.   
  
"Did you?" Adrienne asked, not very reassured.  
  
"Of course we did," Harry said, staring at her with a skeptical expression.   
  
Adrienne stared at Harry for a second, Voldemort's words coming back to her. I'm not going to help anyone get killed, she told herself in a strict voice, I have to lose them all.  
  
"Oh, I forgot, I have to tell Professor Hartel something about yeah, the Quidditch game. Come on!" Adrienne said hastily, pulling away from Ron and motioning for them to follow her.   
  
She ran toward the dormitory door.  
  
"Seems she missed us a great deal," Hermione whispered to Harry as they ran after her.  
  
"She just doesn't want to talk to _you_ because you haven't apologized yet," Ron whispered before Harry could say anything.  
  
Adrienne ran through the corridors, periodically looking over her shoulder to see if they were still there.   
  
"Why can't you just leave me alone?" she whispered to herself as she ran. "Really, I don't think I'm the right type of person to be pursuing a friendship with right now."   
  
"Adrienne, hold up!" Harry called from behind them.   
  
He was still carrying his Firebolt and kept accidentally knocking Hermione with it, who was now glaring at him.  
  
"I think she's out with the other professors!" Adrienne yelled as she pushed one of the entrance doors open.   
  
She stopped running and held it open for her three friends.  
  
"We really need to talk to you, Adrienne," Harry said, softly grabbing her arm as he walked through the door.   
  
"Yeah, let me talk to Professor Hartel first," Adrienne said, looking away and pulling out of his grasp.   
  
She hopped down the steps and began looking for Professor Hartel, finding her easily because she was standing next to Hagrid near the edge of the forest, several other professors grouped next to them.   
  
"There they are," Adrienne instructed, pointing their direction. She turned to look at Harry. "Why don't you guys go get some lunch, while I talk to her. Then I'll meet you back here, at the entrance steps, ok?" she asked, smiling in what she hopped was a winning manner.  
  
"Fine, we'll get the food, but we really need to talk to you, Adrienne," Hermione answered, grabbing Harry and steering him away, Ron reluctantly following.   
  
"Do you get the feeling she isn't very keen on speaking with us?" Hermione asked as they reached the food line in the middle of the grounds.  
  
"Definitely," Harry mumbled, turning around to stare through the crowd where Hagrid and Hartel were talking. Adrienne wasn't near them. "Where'd she go?"  
  
"Who, Adrienne?" Ron asked, looking up from ground where he was staring at a smashed flobberworm. "She had to go talk to Professor Hartel, remember?"   
  
"She isn't there," Harry said, reaching up and adjusting his glasses just in case.   
  
Ron turned around and stared where Harry was pointing. "Then where'd she go?"  


  
  
*** * *  
**

  
Adrienne didn't stop running until she had reached a small clearing in the forest, the same clearing where she had lost her wand on Christmas. She bent over to catch her breath, feeling as if someone was going to barge in on her any moment. Once she had caught her breath she straightened and looked around the clearing. It was small, maybe only ten feet wide, and surrounded by thick oak trees. In the middle was a fallen log, covered in moss. Adrienne walked toward it and sat down.  
  
"I'm going to sit right here until the game starts," she said, staring at a patch of mushrooms growing several feet away. "That way, I'm not near anyone. Then I'll go back to the game, cheer Harry on, and slip away before he can find me. I can't help Voldemort catch him if I'm not near him."   
  
Adrienne smiled at her reasoning and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees.   
  
"Only three hours until the game starts," she said as she looked down at her watch. "This could be rather boring."  
  


  
*** * *  
**

  
"Good evening Salem and Hogwarts! I'm your Salem announcer, Brandon Hanson – "  
  
"And I'm Lee Jordan, the friendly Hogwartarian commentator!"  
  
The Quidditch stands were packed, a sea of emerald and black robes intermingled in the seats. There were banners everywhere, some reading 'Slay Salem!' others reading 'Let's have a HOGwarts roast!'   
  
"And it looks like this will be an interesting game, don't you agree Lee?" Brandon asked, turning to look at the boy sitting next to him.   
  
They were seated at the very top of the stands, in a tall box that was enchanted to rise with the play of the game.   
  
"Well, none of the Hogwarts players have ever played in an interschool game before," Lee commented, "but I don't think that will stop them." Lee glanced down at his watch. "It looks like five minutes until the start, what can we be expecting from the Salem team, Brandon, anything we should be watching for?"  
  
**

  


**  
Hermione and Ron carefully climbed the steps, Hermione finding it much easier this time now that she wasn't carrying a large book.   
  
"Where did she run off to?" Ron moaned miserably as they took seats in the fifth from top row, directly below the announcer's box.  
  
"We're not going back to Hogwarts until we speak with her!" Hermione snapped, crossing her arms before her. "I can't believe she just disappeared like that!"  
  
"Well, the Salem team captain is sixth year Lauren Granthum, an amazingly swift chser and a member of the Eastern Coast Conference All-Star Team, which incidentally won the finals over the Southern Conference All-Stars just two weeks ago."  
  
Lee rolled his eyes, leaned back in his chair, and propped his feet up upon the table before them, telling himself it was going to be a long night commentating with Brandon.  
  
"And then there's our Beaters, Erica Lessie and Chance Copperstone. Erica is the first female Beater to play for Salem in over a hundred years, and as a word of wisdom, Lee, don't make her mad, she isn't strong enough to chuck bludgers for nothing."  
  
"Well, our other two chasers are Danielle Kellerman and Jenna Kyle. They're new to the team this year, both are only third years, but are pretty good aims.  
  
"Sounds interesting, we have some pretty good Chasers too, take for ex – "  
  
"And then there's our Keeper, Anna Zimmerman, boy is she feisty, tries to pick a fight about everything, that girl does."  
  
"Only one guy on your team?" Lee asked in a shocked voice: Usually Quidditch teams were made primarily of men.   
  
"Two, you didn't let me finish, champ," Brandon said, sending Lee a jaunty, winning smile. "Charlie Grey, he's our Seeker – "  
  
"And speaking of Seekers," Lee interrupted, "Harry Potter will be playing as the Hogwarts Seeker. He's been playing his entire time at Hogwarts, making the Gryffindor House team his first year."  
  
"Boys" Lee and Brandon turned; Professor McGonagall and Professor Glenn were standing behind them.   
  
"This is not a brag about your teammates event," Glenn said, pulling up a chair next to Brandon.   
  
"And Mr. Jordan, please, amuse me stick to the game once it begins, alright?" McGonagall asked wearily, sitting down next to him, glad to take weight off her aching feet. Several of the first years from both schools had started frog throwing contests, and she had spent the last hour trying to break it up.  
  
"Right, and we're back!" Brandon shouted into his megaphone. "So Harry Potter is playing for Hogwarts. Tell me Lee, is he really all he's cracked up to be? I mean, is he the lady-killer we all hear about?"  
  
Lee almost fell over backwards trying not to laugh.  
  
"Who, Potter? Nah, sorry to all those girls out there, but he's spoken for," Lee remarked.  
  
**

*  


**  
"Adrienne? What are you doing here?" Mia asked as Adrienne walked into the teachers' box, which was situated adjacent to the announcer's box, but it didn't move with the play of the game.   
  
"Couldn't find Hermione and Ron," Adrienne lied as she let the door swing shut behind her. She knew exactly where they were sitting: Section G Row 95, four seats in from the center line.  
  
"Oh," Mia replied, turning back around to stare down onto the field. Large clear baskets of fairies were being raised into the air with levitation charms, providing a sudden burst of light in the dusky sky. "You can sit up here with me then," she said, patting the seat next to her.  
  
"Isn't Professor Glenn going to sit with you I don't really want to cause a lover's squabble," Adrienne muttered gloomily as she walked forward to take the seat.  
  
"Adrienne," Mia groaned, rolling her eyes, "Like always he's up supervising Brandon; stupid boy always gets on tangents, you know, takes forever to get him back on track."  
  
"I say thump him over the head a good couple of times and he'll learn his lesson," Adrienne said, shrugging her shoulders as if a good thumping always solved problems.  
  
"There will be no thumping of anyone, clear?" Professor Bell called from her seat next to Dumbledore, whom Adrienne meticulously avoided looking at.  
  
"Tsk tsk, Professor Bell, you're no fun at all," Adrienne murmured, scooting to the edge of her chair so she could lean her elbows against the railing. "Is it almost time to start?" she drawled.  
  
**

*  


**  
"And here they come, the home team, the Salem Stakeburners!" Brandon cried, jumping up as seven players clad in emerald robes walked onto the pitch.   
  
They all carried their brooms over their left shoulders, their heads fixated straight before them. Cheers rang through the crowd, various banners flew up into the air, and then a tune began to pick up from the far corner where a group of all Salem students stood, snottily segregating themselves from everyone else.  
_  
'We are the mighty Salem Stakeburners,  
We hold our heads up high  
Honest and true we play our game -  
So sit back and watch us fly!  
We are the mighty Salem Stakeburners  
And we'll put up a fight  
So settle down and raise your hats  
To watch us win tonight!'_  
  
"How come _they_ have a song?" Ron whispered dejectedly to Hermione. "How come _we_ don't have a song."  
  
"We do too have a song, we sung it our first year you remember," Hermione answered, sitting up tall in her seat so she would have a better view of the pitch when Harry walked on.  
  
"Oh, right, do we get to sing too?" Ron asked, a hint of excitement threaded into his tone.  
  
"Have we ever sung at a Quidditch game?" Hermione asked shortly, not taking her eyes off the pitch.  
  
"And now, the visiting team, all the way from Scotland, the Hogwarts the Hogwarts," Brandon stuttered and turned to look at Lee, lowering the megaphone and covering it with his hand, "what are you guys called?" he hissed.  
  
Lee screwed his face up in thought. "Um, we don't really have a name we usually just went by the houses – "  
  
"Yes, the Hogwarts team!" Brandon called into the megaphone as Roland Montegue led the seven students onto the field.  
  
"I still don't know how Montegue made captain!" Ron groaned.   
  
"He's the oldest besides Fred and George and come on, they really can't be captains, now, shhhh," Hermione hissed, unconsciously crossing her fingers in preparation for the match.  
  
From the locker rooms beneath the stands, the Hogwarts team marched upon the pitch, their black robes flopping about them in the lazy wind. The Salem team was already lined up in the center of the pitch, the captain, Lauren Granthum, eyeing the approaching team suspiciously. Montegue stopped before her, his sullen eyes hidden behind his low eyebrows. Harry, bringing up the rear, stopped across from the tall, which was unusual, Seeker, Charlie Gray, who smiled a dashing smile, causing Harry to wonder where he had seen him before. It wasn't until the referee, a wizard visiting from France asked for Montegue and Granthum to shake hands that Harry realized that he had seen Charlie on the cover of the magazine, _Quadpot and Quidditch_, while visiting during the previous summer.   
  
"They're so much bigger than us," Anna muttered to her best friend, Lauren, as the Frenchman, Giovanni Bonacelli, motioned for the box carrying the balls to be brought onto the field. "This is a conspiracy."  
  
Lauren leaned slightly to her left and spoke through the corner of her mouth: "You think everything is a conspiracy. Plus, the bigger they are, the slower they fly."  
  
Harry tightened his grip on his Firebolt and turned his head to stare into the stands, searching for Hermione, Ron, and Adrienne. Where is she? he asked himself in disgust. She hadn't come back from speaking with Professor Hartel. Harry was beginning to think that Adrienne was training to work a disappearing act in a circus.   
  
"Tweet!" the sharp sound of a whistle filled his ears and he leapt into the air, soaring upward in record timing.  
  
"And the game's begun!" Brandon yelled into his microphone. "Now we'll see if these Hogwarts students live up to the reputation everyone is giving them."  
  
"And Granthum is first the quaffle!" Lee announced, interrupting Brandon, who had a smug expression on his face and was writing a sloppy note betting 15 galleons on the outcome of the game.   
  
"Granthum is a marvelous player. She really knows how to maneuver that broom. It looks like one of the carrot-tops – " Brandon said, pushing his note to a nearby owl who picked it up in his beak and flew away.  
  
"That's Fred Weasely – " Lee interjected, but Brandon waved him off.  
  
"has sent a bludger her way. And she rolls to escape it."  
  
"A nice hand off to fellow chaser Danielle Kellerman," Lee said rapidly, glaring at Brandon who looked extremely put off for being interrupted.  
  
"And Kellerman nears the Salem posts, where their Keeper, Hunter, is waiting. You know what Lee?" Brandon turned, the megaphone still up to his mouth, to look at Lee. "I just don't see how your Hunter can hold up; Kellerman is a top notch player. I'd bet my life on her scoring."  
  
"I wouldn't make that bet, Brandon. Kellerman shoots and Hunter blocks, tossing the quaffle back into play. It's intercepted by Hogwarts' Volstechy."  
  
Harry turned his head to follow the quaffle as Volstechy handed off to Montegue, who in turn faked to Garland. Harry squinted ahead, his eyes searching for the snitch.  
  
"And its Garland – "  
  
"But look, here comes Salem beater Erica Lessie."  
  
A sickening crack filled the air, but Harry didn't turn around to see if Garland had actually been hit; he didn't need to. From the excited look on George's face ahead of him, Harry could guess that George had knocked Lessie's bludger off course.  
  
"Don't worry!" Brandon exclaimed as groans emitted from the Salem supporters. "That Hogwarts chic – "  
  
"Not the best word!" Professor Glenn chastised, turning to glare at Brandon, who just ignored him.  
  
" – still has to pass the Keeper."  
  
Anna Zimmerman stared wide-eyed as Garland came barreling toward her. She leaned forward on her broom, her knees held tight against the stick, her arms before her, ready to catch.  
  
"I hate this game!" Anna muttered as Garland sped to her right, faked, and then looped up to shoot at the far left goal. "And I hate you!" Anna screamed as she flew at top speed toward the far goal.   
  
She flung her hand forward and knocked the quaffle, sending it onto the edge of a golden ring and bouncing away. Garland's face fell at Anna's lucky block.  
  
"And our Zimmerman has saved the day!" Brandon called as Anna dived to catch the quaffle, yelling back up at Garland, "Chica! Looks like you could use some practice!"  
  
The game continued and Harry continued his ever existing glare over the pitch, searching desperately for a glint of gold. But none came and as he cris-crossed the pitch, his green eyes often flickering over to Grey, who too wasn't having any luck, Harry turned his attention back to the game.  
  
"And Kyle's stolen the Quaffle from Volstechy and is making her way down the field. Is it just me, Brandon, or is she really hot," Lee said, his eyes widening, a small smile breaking upon his face, which quickly faded as McGonagall slapped the back of his head.   
  
"And what does that have anything to do with the game?" she hissed.  
  
"Right, and it's Kyle, on a breakaway – OUCH – that had to hurt, a bludger straight to the stomach, she should have seen that one coming," Lee said, shaking his head in sympathy.  
  
"You sure you don't see Adrienne anywhere?" Hermione asked, elbowing Ron, who was bent forward in his seat, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, his eyes wide with the excitement of the game. He ignored her.  
  
"Ron," Hermione hissed, elbowing him again. "Do you see her anywhere?"  
  
"Shhh, Hermione, I'm trying to watch a game," he said, elbowing her back.   
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron! Do you see her?  
  
Ron slowly turned his head, an impatient scowl on his face. "No, I've been watching the game, how would I have seen her unless she was out prancing upon the field. We'll find her afterwards. See, I told you you should have apologized right away," he said angrily.  
  
"And the score is now 100- 40 Salem. Well, Lee, it doesn't look very good for your team so far. And if your Potter doesn't catch the snitch soon, then I think Salem might be having a victory party tonight!" Brandon said in a cocky voice.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes at Brandon's commentary and suddenly swerved to his left, smiling at Fred at George who were making to hit two oncoming bludgers. Harry's eyes drifted to the Hogwarts goals, where Anna Zimmerman was hovering, her arms crossed before her, and she wore an insubordinate expression; she didn't look like she wanted to be there at all. He was just beginning to wonder why she would join the team if she never had any fun playing, when a glint of gold flicked far above the far left corner of the pitch.  
  
"And would you look at that!" Lee exclaimed, jumping out of his seat, Brandon quickly following suit.   
  
Harry had flown into a steep ascent. The snitch hadn't moved yet, and Harry flattened himself upon his broom, his eyes fixated upon the motionless object before him.  
  
"And Grey's spotted the snitch too," Brandon exclaimed hopefully, unconsciously crossing his fingers.  
  
Harry saw Charlie out of the corner of his eye, and tightened his grip on his broom. He didn't like having to catch the snitch in an ascent, much preferring to enter a dive to reach the ball, it was always quicker. Several feet away from the snitch, a bludger went whirling past his ear. And then another past his arm. Harry reached out to grab the snitch, but it suddenly dropped, falling through the air at breakneck speed, its little wings fluttering like those of Hummingbirds.  
  
"And the chase is on!" Lee yelled, as both Charlie and Harry flipped around in mid air to begin their dives. The wind brushed Harry's hair from his face and pushed his glasses against his face. The snitch veered to the right, Harry and Charlie close behind.   
  
The students and professors in the stands were now standing, chants of "Potter" and chants of "Grey" filling the air. The snitch was picking up speed and even with the Firebolt, Harry was falling behind. Then, the snitch turned directions again, this time to the left, and the split second loss of momentum to facilitate the direction change was all Harry needed. Swinging to the side of his broom, he flung out his left hand and enclosed the golden ball in his palm.  
  
"And Potter catches the snitch! 190-100, in favor of Hogwarts!" Lee called.  
  
"Dam--" Brandon started to cry into the megaphone but Joe turned in his seat and waved at him, an unamused smile upon his face.  
  
"Well, Brandon, that was a good game! The Salem Chasers were quite amazing, but still, Potter really is a whiz on a broom," Lee said.  
  
"Yeah, can it, I just lost 15 galleons I don't _have _15 galleons. Damn it!" Brandon moaned, lowering his head onto the table in disgust. "Stupid foreigners!"  
  
Adrienne slowly stood up, raising her arms above her to stretch.   
  
"Told you he was good, Professor, didn't I?" she asked, turning to look at Mia, but she had walked over to the far edge of the box to talk to Professor Glenn.   
  
Adrienne slowly turned back around, making a face.   
  
"No one wants to talk to me," she mumbled, and then shrugged. "Oh well, I bet Professor Glenn 50 galleons." Adrienne laughed, a small smile engulfing her face. "That'll buy all my school supplies until I graduate!"   
  
She turned and made her way to the box's exit with intents on walking around to go talk to Professor Glenn, without Mia's hearing she wouldn't approve at all. No one saw Adrienne leave.  


  
*** * *  
**

  
"We have to get down onto the field!" Ron shouted, grabbing Hermione's arm and pulling her into the quickly filling aisle. Hermione followed, her eyes wide and her head moving from left to right, searching for Adrienne.   
  
Adrienne quickly ran down the back stairway of the stadium. It was always blocked off for student use, but she never followed those directions. She had made her way over to the announcer's box, but had found Joe to have already left. The echoing roar of the students in the stadium vibrated through the stairwell, making her slightly dizzy. Raising a hand to her head, Adrienne slowly sat down upon the fourth landing. She took a few deep breaths and then lowered her hand, the triangle on her palm catching her eye.  
  
It had only been a month ago that Professor Glenn had asked to see her hand. Nothing had really come of that night except that she had lost her second wand and now had frequent splitting headaches. Professors Glenn and Hartel, not having any specialty in ancient arts, and unwilling to take her to any of the universities that did, for fear that Adrienne might end up as some experiment of theirs, had decided the best thing for Adrienne was to just know the truth. She had spent the night on their couch, as she did many nights, wearing one of Mia's old robes as a nightgown, her head rested in Mia's lap as Mia told her that she shouldn't be blaming herself for the attack on Salem. That whatever was bothering her, Mia assuming it was Adrienne knowing she was a Perfect, should be just dropped, not worried about any more. Adrienne just laid there, staring into the ceiling, letting her talk, wondering how the hell she was supposed to get her school work done without a wand.   
  
Adrienne half expected them to go tell Professor Bell what had happened, but for some reason beyond her knowledge, Mia and Joe told her that no one should know about it. Adrienne was going to ask why Dumbledore didn't think she should be told she was Perfect, but again, when she tried to talk about it, her mouth wouldn't let the words come out. So, she just sat in silence, sometimes nodding to show she was listening.  
  
Adrienne slowly stood back up and began to make her way back down the stairwell, the cheers and victory screams getting louder. Adrienne pushed the door open and slowly walked outside the stadium into the dark night. The game had gone on for two hours, and it seemed that dusk had almost come earlier than usual, or maybe it was just her. It was slightly chilly and Adrienne wrapped her robe tighter around herself and slowly walked through the dark grounds back toward the castle.  
  
**

*  


**  
"Harry! Harry!"  
  
Harry looked down from his position atop Fred's shoulders and waved at Hermione and Ron, who were pushing their way through the crowd.  
  
"Let me down," Harry yelled to Fred, who was yelling to George, who was several feet away, chatting to the Salem Chaser, Lauren Granthum.   
  
Fred rolled his eyes, obviously disappointed in Harry's lack of desire to party, and lowered him to the ground, hands raining down upon Harry's back in congratulations. Harry smiled at the multiple faces and gave a couple fives to various people and then pushed himself toward Hermione and Ron.  
  
"I think I'm getting claustrophobic," Harry said, realizing that even though he spent all those years in the Dursley's cramped and spider infested closet, he couldn't stand being in such huge crowds.   
  
He was always afraid he'd get trampled to death, like what had happened at a professional Quidditch game he read about from the 1960s, when a Seeker was stampeded by excited fans coming to congratulate him on his catching the snitch: The Seeker was given a nice funeral, and those who attended were extremely careful not to step atop his grave, figuring this was the least they could do, considering his unfortunate demise.   
  
"You were wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed, kissing his cheek.   
  
He smiled and kissed her back, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, linking arms with Ron, and pulling them through the growing crowd.  
  
"Where are we going?" Hermione asked as she tried to dodge the people in her way.   
  
When they had finally left the crowd Harry answered.  
  
"To where I can breathe," he said, letting go of her and Ron. He stepped forward and turned to look at them. "So, how was the game?"  
  
"Magnificent, as usual," Hermione replied, somewhat dully, and Harry smiled at her lack of enthusiasm.  
  
"They have some pretty fast Chasers," Ron replied, his head glancing back behind him. "And did you see that? One of the beaters was riding a Firebolt."  
  
"Yeah, I heard her talking; Adrienne loaned it to her," Harry replied, stepping up onto his tiptoes to scan the crowd. "We should go find her."  
  
Hermione's shoulder's slumped. "In there? You have to be kidding me. There's at least two thousand people on the pitch. There has to be an easier way."  
  
Ron took a step forward, his eyes squinting.  
  
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, leaning over slightly to see into Ron's face.   
  
Ron waved his hand in protest at Harry blocking his view. "I don't think we have to go back into that crowd. It seems Adrienne's loosing her skill at this disappearing game."   
  
Harry turned and they all stared through the open entrance to the stadium, where in the moonlight they could see a lone figure in green robes walking toward the castle. It was the figure's tripping and sprawling face first into the ground that confirmed her identity, and in an instant the three friends had broke into a run.  
  
Adrienne pulled herself miserably from the ground and brushed the grass from her robes.   
  
"One of these days I'm going to get this walking concept down," she muttered dejectedly as she again made her way toward the castle.   
  
She had only taken a few steps when suddenly her legs turned.   
  
"What the – " she started, her face scrunched up in surprise.   
  
Her legs were moving as if on their own, taking her away from the castle toward the forest.   
  
"Oh no," she moaned, realizing that the only reason for this happening was that Voldemort was making her do it. "This really can't be good!"   
  
Adrienne took a deep breath and then made to scream, hoping someone might hear her, but nothing came out.  
  
"Where is she going?" Hermione asked in-between deep breaths, she wasn't in nearly as good as shape as Harry or Ron, and was lagging substantially behind them.  
  
"Why's she going to the forest?" Ron asked, casting a confused glance at Harry.   
  
"Adrienne! Adrienne, wait up!" Harry yelled, breaking into a faster gait.   
  
Adrienne's heart leapt into her throat. Go away, she thought desperately, please don't follow me. Adrienne tried to yell something back, to tell them to go away, to bugger off, to do anything, anything but follow her. But the only thing that happened was that her legs broke into a run and she ripped over the ground, not running at a breakneck speed, but still faster than any of the three behind them.   
  
"She's too fast!" Ron panted as he stopped running and crunched over, rubbing the stitch in his side and wincing in pain.   
  
Hermione stopped next to him, and gasping for breath, put an arm on Ron's shoulder and looked out over the grounds as Harry continued his pursuit.  
  
"Adrienne! Hold up!" Harry called.   
  
Adrienne kept running, her mind screaming for her to stop, but nothing was listening to her, she couldn't even speak. The forest was only feet away now and she felt herself slowing down, almost as if giving Harry a chance to catch up. Adrienne slipped through the trees, her feet boldly stepping upon the fallen logs and scattered rocks. Even in the darkness she knew where she was heading: The clearing she had been in earlier. She could hear Harry behind her; she could hear his yells for her to stop. And then suddenly she did, too abruptly though, and she fell forward.   
  
"Gosh! Why can't I walk normally?" she moaned, finally able to talk again and rolling over on the hard ground.   
  
Her head was pounding, this time from where it had hit a log, and it took several seconds for her eyesight to focus. And when it did, she screamed.  
  
"Shhh, are you all right?" Harry was standing over her, breathing hard, his face flushed.  
  
"Ugh! No, I think I broke one of those head-bones my brains are going to start leaking out any moment," Adrienne muttered, reluctantly accepting Harry's hand up.   
  
She raised a hand to her eyes, feeling suddenly dizzy.  
  
"Why did you run?" Harry asked, his voice slightly shaky from the lack of breath.   
  
Adrienne lowered her hand, still feeling as if the ground was rocking back and forth.  
  
"I I couldn't stop," she said slowly, looking away.  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows. "You couldn't stop?"   
  
"Adrienne?"  
  
Adrienne whipped around, finally realizing why she had ended up in the forest. Her hands clenched in fear, but when she realized who was speaking to her, her mouth dropped. It wasn't Voldemort, it was Mia.   
  
"Professor Hartel?" Adrienne asked, a large smile breaking upon her face. She awkwardly ran forward, still quite offbalanced, and engulfed Mia in a big hug. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you!"   
  
Mia took a step back, a confused expression on her face.   
  
"Whatever is the matter?" she asked, staring down at Adrienne. Her eyes flicked back to Harry and smiled. "Nice to see you again Harry! Congratulations on your game! When Adrienne said that you were a good player, she never said that you were that good! I bet you'll have many offers to play professional Quidditch when you leave Hogwarts."  
  
Harry smiled and walked forward, still trying to catch his breath.  
  
"Do you have your wand with you, Professor?" Adrienne asked hastily, quickly looking around, expecting someone to pop out of the shadows any moment now. She had a bad feeling, a really bad feeling.  
  
"Of course I do," Mia answered, smiling sympathetically at Adrienne as if Adrienne were losing her mind.  
  
"Good, get it out. NOW!" Adrienne exclaimed. "Come on!"  
  
"What is going on, Adrienne?" Mia asked as she reached into her robe and pulled out her wand.   
  
Adrienne sighed in relief as Mia raised it to show her she had it, but then, as Mia brought it into better lighting, or as good of lighting one could get from the moon, Adrienne's face dropped. She took a step backward, her partly closed right hand rising to her chest.   
  
"What's the matter, Adrienne? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Mia said, a worried expression crossing her face, but she didn't lower her wand.   
  
Adrienne's eyes lingered on Mia's wand, the green irises fixated upon it that wasn't a sycamore wand. A cold chill rushed through her body, and Adrienne's eyes flickered to the foliage surrounding them. It was too dark to see anything beyond the first few feet of trees, but she didn't need to see anything to know people were there. Adrienne took another step backwards, her head turning to look at Harry, who, as she had been moving backward, had been moving forward to see what was bothering her. Suddenly, Adrienne felt someone grab her hand.  
  
"Adrienne, where are you going? I asked you a question_, _or have you already forgotten our agreement? I ask you a question and you answer, or must I force you to do that too?" Mia was no longer smiling and was holding onto Adrienne's left wrist in a tight grip.  
  
  
"What's going on?" Harry asked, staring at Mia and Adrienne in alarm.  
  
"You're not Professor Hartel," Adrienne whispered, her voice caught in her throat.   
  
The lady holding onto her smiled, a large cold smile that Adrienne had never seen upon Mia's face.  
  
"Of course I'm not," she whispered.  
  
"This would be a good time to run!" Adrienne screamed, yanking her arm forward and pulling the lady toward her. Adrienne brought her knee into the lady's stomach and elbowed her across the face.  
  
"What's going on!" Harry yelled, reaching into his robes for his wand.   
  
His eyes widened in fear as he realized they hadn't been allowed to take their wands with them.  
  
"What part of run don't you understand?" Adrienne yelled as she finally broke free of the lady's grasp. "Go get help!"  
  
But before Harry could tell Adrienne that he wasn't leaving her there alone, someone had stepped from the darkness, wand raised.  
  
"Stupefy!"   
  
Adrienne heard Harry fall to the ground beside her. She looked up at the hooded figure standing at the edge of the clearing, her heart pounding out of control. Adrienne heard the stunning spell, and she saw the flash of light, and then nothing.  
**

  


  
**


	31. Dueling with the Dark Lord

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

****

Chapter 31: Dueling with the Dark Lord

"All right," Hermione said, straightening up, clasping a hand to her chest, "I've caught my breath, let's go." 

Ron slowly turned to look at her, his face still red as he replied, "can't we wait a little longer, I think my heart is about to explode from my chest." 

Hermione took a deep breath and sighed. 

"Why'd she run?" she breathed, her eyes flitting to the dark forest ahead of them. 

"Because she's being as smart as a garden gnome right now," Ron muttered angrily, deciding he wouldn't be nursing the stitch in his side if it hadn't been for Adrienne. 

"Ron?" Hermione whispered, reaching up and grabbing his arm. 

"Hermione?" Ron mimicked. "What?" 

"Did you see that?" she asked, pointing into the forest ahead of them. 

"Why of course I see it, I'm one of those people who don't need any light to see things," Ron said in a slow voice, "it's dark out, Hermione!" 

"There it is again." 

Ron stared out into the forest with his eyes squinted. "I see some shadowy trees… anything important about that?" 

Hermione let go of his arm and started to run forward. 

"Ron, you didn't see the light? It looked like someone cast a spell, come on!" 

Ron stared after her for a second and then reluctantly followed. 

"Did I mention I hate running? I spent all my childhood running from Fred and George and their spider collection. Now I feel that if I turn around I'm going to see a giant spider chasing after me. I hate running, Hermione!" 

Hermione and Ron skidded to a halt outside the edge of the forest just as a large cloud covered the moon, casting them into an eerie blackness. Ron reached a hand into his robe and the slowly withdrew it, a defeated expression on his face. 

"You, by any chance, have your wand with you?" Ron asked hopefully. 

Hermione squinted into the forest, her hands on her hips. 

"No, we couldn't bring them, remember?" she replied. "Harry?" 

No one answered her except several hooting owls. 

"Adrienne?" Hermione tried, but to no avail. 

"She wouldn't answer you anyway, Hermione. You never apologized," Ron said haughtily. "Let me try. Adrienne? Adrienne?" 

Hermione cast a dark glance at Ron. "She's not answering either one of us… neither is Harry." 

"What happened to your usual ingenious analysis of situations?" Ron snapped, "You don't have to state the obvious." 

"We'll just have to go find them," Hermione said, reaching down and pulling her robe up to her knees to prevent tripping. 

"Yup, you know, we could have gone exploring in dark woods back at Hogwarts… at least we knew what was in there, you know, werewolves, giant man-eating spiders, other scary things. But no, we had to explore the woods here… Merlin, you know what could be in there?" Ron whined. 

"Yes, Harry and Adrienne, come on." 

With the moon covered, Hermione and Ron had great difficulty navigating their way through the brush and trees. The silent night was periodically interrupted with muffled screams of pain as heads ran into trees and feet caught on roots. Their yells of "Harry? Adrienne?" weren't answered, nor were Ron's pleas for them to turn back, his imagination telling him that any moment they'd enter a clearing that served as court for some horrible beast. 

"Just a little further," Hermione urged Ron as the moon came back from behind the clouds. 

"I sure do hope there aren't any werewolves in here. I mean, dark woods, full moon, young teens, this has the makings of every horror film we watched last summer," Ron said darkly. "Ouch!" 

Hermione had stopped abruptly in the path. Ron, still staring up at the barely visible sky through the trees, ran right into her. He jumped back in surprise. 

"Why'd you stop?" he hissed. 

"I don't know," Hermione whispered back. She took a step forward, through the branches of several low hanging trees, and stopped again at the edge of a clearing. 

"Did I mention dark creatures like clearings? I think Harry and I established that one already, we don't have to try and reprove the theory," Ron whispered to her. 

Hermione didn't answer; she instead strode right into the middle of the clearing, her hands on her hips, her mouth pursed. Ron watched with mild trepidation from the trees, his skin rising in goose bumps, his ears suddenly picking up every little noise of the forest. His eyes flitted around nervously before fixating themselves on Hermione. 

"Ok, what are you doing?" he asked. 

Hermione looked up from the ground, her features disfigured by shadows. "I don't think they're here anymore," she said, her voice barely audible. 

"Right… then where are they? And how do you know they were here," Ron replied, taking a deep breath and walking into the clearing. 

"I don't know where they are… but they were here." Hermione repeated, crossing her arms. "We need to go find the professors." 

Ron stopped next to her. "You don't think they're in trouble, do you?" he asked in a hoarse voice. 

Hermione turned her gaze back to the ground, to a spot hidden to Ron by her shadow. She slowly bent down and picked something up. 

"They're not in danger, right?" Ron said, squinting to look at what she was now holding in her hand. 

She turned, her arm extended so Ron could see better. Atop her open palm were a pair of glasses – a pair of black rimmed, circular lens glasses. 

Harry was lying on the hard ground, and no matter how many times he blinked, he couldn't get his eyes to focus. He was vaguely aware of movement around him, but he was more concerned with the aching feeling in the back of his head. He blinked rapidly, trying to remember when he had felt that… the throbbing in the back of his head before. It wasn't like the pain he felt when near to Voldemort. Harry shut his eyes and lay there, thinking. And then, it hit him… he had felt like this his fourth year, after Ron had stunned him during one of their curse practices before the Third Task. Harry's eyes snapped open and he threw himself into a sitting position. 

From what he could determine through his squinted eyes, he was in a large room. It was formidable looking and struck Harry as being perhaps a bank or a large ministry building. The far end of the room was lined with large pillars that reached high into the air, meeting with what looked like a balcony. The floor, Harry realized, was polished marble, the walls, a dark mahogany paneling. Parts of the room though, looked like they were still under construction. Large cauldrons were scattered around the edges and various large rolled parchments, which Harry could only assume were blueprints, were propped against them. 

A sudden movement behind him caused him to start and he turned, squinting his eyes even more and trying to ignore the intensifying headache caused by his lack of glasses. He let out a soft groan when he realized who was behind him. Five wizards, clad in black robes and hoods, were grouped around a door, talking quietly, each fingering their wands as if itching to fling them in his direction and curse him into a million pieces. A hooded head turned and paused, facing Harry's direction. Harry quickly lowered himself to the ground and pretended to still be stunned, hoping that the Death Eater hadn't seen him sitting up. 

"Potter's awake." The lone voice echoed through the large building. Next, the sound of footsteps rang through Harry's ears. "Boy, get up." 

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, wondering desperately what he was going to do. He didn't have his wand; he had been captured, and no one knew where he was… no one except Adrienne, maybe. This didn't comfort Harry: He had no idea where Adrienne was. He hadn't seen her when looking over the room. And even if she had escaped, would she know where he had been taken, would she get help? 

"Listen to me, boy, cooperate and everything will be a lot easier on you," the Death Eater growled as he reached down and grabbed Harry by the collar, heaving him to his feet. Harry snapped his eyes open, having to readjust them to the lighting. He stared blankly at the Death Eater before him, wondering who he was looking at. 

"Go tell him the boy's awake," the Death Eater called to those behind him. "You sure are a tricky one, aren't you?" The Death Eater had turned back to Harry, and had yanked him closer, pulling him up until Harry was on his tiptoes. Harry didn't say anything. "You think you're so smart, eh? Think you're something special? Let me tell you something, boy, death is the great equalizer… ready for a lesson?" 

The Death Eater let go of Harry and gave him a sharp push to the chest before walking away. Harry cast another glance around the room, wishing desperately that he had his glasses, then at least he'd be able to see what was going on. He began to count the Death Eaters that were filing in from various doors that Harry hadn't noticed before. He had counted forty, but Harry wasn't exactly sure how accurate that was… he was beginning to see double. He shook his head and turned his attention back to Adrienne. If Adrienne was captured, she might have her wand, he thought, reaching into his robes one last time to make sure he hadn't missed his own, but he knew he wouldn't find it. Harry turned his attention back to the Death Eaters who were now standing in groups, staring at him and whispering ominously. 

"One year without murder attempts, that's all I ask," Harry mumbled, sitting back down. 

A dull hush befell the room as a slight jolt of pain swept over Harry. Harry didn't have to look up to see who had entered, he didn't have to listen to the murmur of "My Lord" to know whose footsteps were approaching him. Harry stared at the ground, cursing himself for not bring his wand. If he had just brought his wand… but he shook his head, his wand couldn't duel against Voldemort's; it wouldn't have been any use. 

"Welcome to the reunion, Potter." 

Still looking at the ground, Harry could see the black robe hanging before him. 

"What, thought sending invitations was too conventional?" Harry snapped without looking up. 

Voldemort stared down at Harry in mild amusement. "Very brave. Not the quiet little boy that everyone thinks you are?" Voldemort's pale face broke into a wide, lip-less grin. "Good, that makes everything far more entertaining." 

Harry continued to look at the ground, vowing not to look up, vowing to not let Voldemort see the fear he knew was shining through his eyes. This is bad, he thought. 

****

"Those aren't what I think they are, are they?" Ron asked, a horrified expression slowly crossing his pale face. 

Hermione softly closed her hands around the glasses and looked up at him. 

"Do you think Adrienne is with him?" Ron asked, wrapping his arms around himself, suddenly very cold. 

"I don't think he's in better shape if she is," Hermione muttered darkly, "Harry can take care of himself… Adrienne… she might get them both killed." 

"Great vote of confidence," Ron muttered. "Come on, let's go find Dumbledore, he'll know what to do." 

Hermione nodded and made her way to the edge of the clearing. She was only feet away from the path when a popping noise emitted from behind her. She and Ron spun around; they're hearts rising in their throats. Someone was standing in the middle of the clearing. The tall figure stared at them for a second, its face hidden in the shadows. Ron swallowed hard and grabbed Hermione's forearm in a reassuring grip as the figure stepped into the moonlight. Hermione tumbled backward, her hand raised to her mouth, screaming loudly. 

"Shh, they'll hear you," said a familiar voice. Professor Wallace lowered her Death Eater's hood and raised her hands into the air. "See, I'm not going to kill you." 

"Good God!" Hermione moaned, and them her eyes widened in fear. "Good God," she repeated, "You're…" 

"Spare me the lecture," Wallace snapped, "There's no time. He's got Harry and Adrienne." Wallace took a step closer to them, lowering her hands. 

"You're a Death Eater," Ron said calmly, as if his teachers always turned out to be murderous villains. 

"Well, if you want to get technical about it… I have the Mark, I have the outfit, I can even have the mean scowl," she paused and then narrowed her eyes, "What am I doing? I need you to take a message to Dumbledore." 

She reached into her pocket and withdrew her wand. Hermione and Ron stepped back nervously. 

"Accio glasses." Harry's glasses flew to her and she pocketed them before continuing. "Listen, tell Dumbledore that - " 

"Stupefy!" 

A jet of white light burst from the trees to Hermione and Ron's left, and Professor Wallace fell to the ground. Ron grabbed Hermione's arm and yanked her onto the path, tripping over roots and rocks. 

"This is bad," he whispered as they crashed through the shrubbery, the footsteps of urgent Death Eaters following behind them. 

"We can't just leave her!" Hermione hissed as they ducked behind a large willow tree, pressing themselves up into the shadows of the trunk. 

"Do you prefer to go back and duel a group of Death Eaters without a wand… that makes for a cup of instant death any day, shh," Ron whispered into her ear. 

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but Ron snapped his hand over it. Above Ron's heavy breathing, Hermione could hear the footsteps drawing closer, and then the shouts of, "They're gone." 

After a few minutes, when no other sound existed except the chirping of crickets and the hoot of various owls, Ron withdrew his hand. Hermione took a deep breath and shut her eyes, her heart beating uncontrollably. 

"How'd they sneak up so fast? Can you Apparate onto the Salem grounds?" Ron asked, wiping his sweaty face with his sleeve. 

"Not unless the wards are down," Hermione muttered. "Wait, we might not be on the Salem grounds anymore…" 

Ron rubbed his eyes and then stepped away from the trunk, slowly sticking his head out of the branches. "Come on, they're gone." 

Hermione followed him out, having regained her composure, and started running in the direction of the school, Ron behind. The forest was a lot darker now, the moon having taken up a permanent residence behind a large dark cloud. 

"It looks like rain," Ron heaved, as they broke out of the forest. Hermione didn't reply, and he quickened his pace to catch up to her, his hand holding the stitch in his side. "Where do you think Dumbledore is?" 

"He won't be that hard to find," Hermione answered back as they drew nearer to the noisy stadium. 

****

Voldemort snapped his fingers, the clicking noise echoing through the silent room, and ropes sprang from thin air, binding Harry's hands behind him. Voldemort's pale hand reached down, a long finger hooking itself under Harry's chin. A burning flash of white pain ran through Harry's body, and he bit his tongue to keep from screaming out. Voldemort tilted his head up. 

"Did you loose your glasses?" Voldemort asked, a small smirk playing on his face, "Pity." 

Harry stared at him for a second, his eyes boring into Voldemort's red, snake-like eyes. 

"I'm not complaining," he said in a soft, but firm voice, "I don't have to look at you then." 

Voldemort laughed – something that troubled Harry greatly. 

"Your attempts to be pert are admirable, but it does not do one well to mock death… painless or painful… that depends on you and you alone." 

Voldemort tightened his grip on Harry's face, sending currents of pain from the point of contact, causing him to whimper slightly. 

"I admire your mother, even if she was a fool, she thought she was doing a noble deed, did she not? Thinking that even after her death, she could protect you? I admire her: She protects me too, her greatest enemy. That mix-up of hers, that mistake." 

Voldemort eyed him, smiling as tears of pain began to fall down Harry's pale face. Voldemort looked at Harry closely, his red-eyes roving over the pale face before them, enthralled by Harry's attempts to keep calm, to not scream out in pain, to ignore his own suffering. 

Voldemort dropped him, a satisfied expression on his face. He turned on his heel and walked away, his robes billowing behind him. Harry dropped to a kneeling position, tears slowly falling down his cheeks. 

"Your mother, boy," Voldemort began, turning back around to stare at Harry. 

Voldemort was now standing in the center of the room; his Death Eaters still grouped around the outskirts. 

"Enough about my mother," Harry called, standing back up. He squinted his eyes, ignoring the dizzying feeling, and stared at Voldemort. "My mother did greater things than you could ever do, than you could ever comprehend. You never thought I'd survive. You never thought she could save me," Harry said, his voice wavering slightly. "You may have killed her, but you didn't win." 

"Touching," Voldemort replied, cocking his head to the side and grinning evilly at Harry. "You have so much faith in your family." Voldemort's lipless smile grew larger, his white teeth gleaming. "Perhaps your mother was noble, your father, though, was a fool. He died when he didn't have to… that is a foolish thing to do. He gave his life to buy you a measly fourteen years, when he could have sacrificed yours and lived much longer." Voldemort paused, realizing that he wasn't fazing Harry, that Harry wouldn't listen to anything he said about his parents. Voldemort dropped his smile and strode forward… he'd just have to try a different tactic. 

Voldemort walked back into focus, and Harry's eyes widened with trepidation as Voldemort reached a long hand into his robes and pulled out his wand. He held the wand in the air, so Harry would see it clearly, and then, to Harry's confusion, reached his other hand into his robes and drew out another wand. 

"It is better they are dead," he said in a soft whisper, so only Harry could hear. "Now they don't have to suffer the knowledge of knowing of their child's betrayal. They don't have to suffer the knowledge of knowing that the one they would die to protect, would be turned over to me by his own blood, his own sibling, his own sister." 

Harry stared at Voldemort, his words playing through his mind. Adrienne, she wouldn't help him… would she? No! She wouldn't. Harry glared up at Voldemort. 

"Adrienne would never do that," Harry said, suddenly calm. Voldemort was just toying with him, and he wasn't about to let him. 

"I wouldn't bet my life on it," Voldemort hissed. He took a few steps backward, tightening his grip on both his wand and Adrienne's old wand. "Perfect, come here." 

And it was then that Harry finally came to grasp with reality: He was kneeling in a large room filled with Death Eaters. He had his hands tied behind his back and his wand was an ocean away. His glasses were in a forest… and any moment his supposedly evil-twin sister was to be walking through a door to bring him to his doom. Harry blinked rapidly and then took a deep breath. 

"She wouldn't," he whispered, crossing his fingers. 

But then again, he thought, she has been acting really strangely… getting in fights, saying rude things, getting expelled, stealing library books… but that didn't necessarily maker her evil, did it? No… Harry thought… no. 

Voldemort turned, his eyes fixated upon a door directly across from Harry. A small smile crept over his face. Voldemort stood there for several seconds, waiting for Adrienne to stride through the door, seemingly upon her own free will. His eyes narrowed as the seconds progressed and she still hadn't come. 

"Perfect, come at once!" he bellowed, a strange thought flickering through his mind: Maybe she had broken the spell. 

"Master!" A hoarse yell echoed from the room behind the door, which every eye was fixated upon. "It's the Perfect, she won't wake!" 

The room was silent, and then, despite himself, Harry burst into laughter. So, Adrienne was there, and just like her, Harry thought, to mess up something as simple as getting stunned. Voldemort's head snapped to look at him, his eyes blazing. 

"You will not mock me!" he spat, raising his own wand. 

"Master!" 

Voldemort, reluctantly, turned to look behind him. A lone Death Eater had walked from the room, Adrienne floating in the air before him, his wand positioned upon her, keeping her up. Her head had fallen forward, her hair in her face. 

"What is this?" Voldemort exclaimed, dropping his wand and striding forward, his shoes clicking upon the marble floor. 

"The Perfect, I cannot wake her." 

"Lucius, explain this," Voldemort growled, staring at the Death Eater. "You were the one to cast the spell, were you not?" 

"I stunned her sir, the same as Potter," Lucius said hurriedly, lowering Adrienne to the ground. 

"Potter seems to be awake, why would it work on her differently?" Voldemort hissed, kneeling down next to the unconscious girl, whose head was now hanging to the side, her mouth slightly open. 

"Perhaps because she is a Perfect?" Lucius suggested, kneeling down next to Voldemort. He reached forward and again inspected the girl as Voldemort slid a hand under her neck. 

"She's alive," Voldemort replied, drawing his hand away. 

Harry watched the scene in interest. He couldn't make out much. He could see a blurry figure on the ground, people grouped around her. He crawled to the side to get a better look, squinted his eyes, and turned his head different directions… but he couldn't make out anymore. 

Voldemort stared at Adrienne and then raised his wand. 

"Ennervate," he ordered. 

"She never did listen well," Harry called out. 

"Get up!" Voldemort ordered, his eyes narrowing. 

Everyone waited with bated breath, their eyes fixated upon the three in the middle of the room, but no matter what Voldemort tried, Adrienne continued to lie unconscious upon the floor. Voldemort slowly stood up and turned around to face the group of Death Eaters to Harry's left. 

"Where is the healer?" he asked in a slow drawl. 

Harry turned to face the direction in which Voldemort was speaking, his ears picking up the soft words of, "We have a healer?" 

"W, come forward!" Voldemort called out. 

"She's coming, My Lord!" came a deep voice and then the group of Death Eaters broke apart as four people entered the room, dragging a fifth behind them. 

"Which of you is W?" Voldemort asked, his face rising in fury at Adrienne's sudden state of unconsciousness. 

"The bound and tied one," another drawled. 

Harry squinted until he could barely make out, between the fluttering of his eyelashes, the new figure now lying on the floor. Sure enough, the figure was bound. 

"What is this!" Voldemort screamed, his face rising in fury. 

He pocketed Adrienne's wand and strode forward. With a flick of his wrist and a yell of "Ennervate!" the figure began to stir. 

"Why was she tied?" Voldemort hissed, glaring at the four who had drug her in. "And why wasn't she here, her expertise was needed." 

His face was livid, his nostrils flaring. 

"We found her in – in – the forest," the first Death Eater stuttered. "She was telling someone to run for – for – Dumbl – Dumbledore. We stunned her, but who she was speaking to, whoever that was, he got away. 

"She was what?" Voldemort hissed in a deadly voice. His eyes flashed from the Death Eater standing before him, to the one finally sitting up, a hand raised to her head. 

"I see," Voldemort said, turning around and striding toward Adrienne. He cast a glance from Harry to Adrienne and then turned back around, his wand raised. 

"Wallace!" 

Professor Wallace slowly stood up, and then, with a great sigh, ripped the hood from her head and shook her dark hair. She ran a hand up and raked it through her tresses and then frowned at Voldemort. 

"So I lied," she said nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders. "Never really did mean that pledge I took…" 

Voldemort's reply snaked through the room with its soft and threatening tones, "so you thought you, a young girl, a few years out of school, a few years past a marriageable age, could obtain something by posing as one of my trusted? Did you think you could further your cause by getting yourself killed?" 

His wand was pointed directly at her, his hand remarkably steady. 

"Well, when you put it that way… seems like a dumb move on my part, now doesn't it?" she said. 

Harry stared at her, his jaw hanging open. Professor Wallace had been a Death Eater, a spy for that matter. 

"You ever play chess?" she asked, taking a daring step closer to Voldemort. 

"A long time ago," he replied, keeping his wand always pointed at her heart. 

"Then you know, sacrifices must be made, plays must be played, hits must be taken. You can't say 'checkmate' if you don't lose a piece," she replied. "I'm just a piece, a minor play." 

"A play that will fail," Voldemort said, smiling again. "I won't lose." 

"Are you sure?" Wallace replied, raising a thin eyebrow and crossing her arms before her. "You don't seem to be in a promising position." 

Voldemort stared at her and then flipped his head back and laughed – the same cruel laugh Harry had always heard in his dreams. 

"I don't seem to be in a promising position?" he exclaimed. He glared at her. "Look," he stepped to the side, flinging a hand behind him to point at Adrienne. "The girl is unconscious, beyond the reaches of my magic, and the boy," he turned to point at Harry, "he won't be escaping this time." 

Wallace followed his direction and looked at Harry, who was staring at her, but she had the impression he wasn't quite seeing her. 

"You took away Potter's glasses?" she asked in annoyance, "and the point of that would be what? Are you all right, Harry?" 

"Oh, definitely," Harry called, back, "reliving my favorite moments from last year, thanks!" he finished, wondering if his flippant attitude was coming off right. 

He wanted Voldemort to think he was overconfident… Voldemort would want to prove his superiority then, and that means Harry would stay alive longer, and the longer he stayed alive, the longer he had to escape. Harry twisted his hands behind his back, feeling the blood from where the ropes had cut his wrists spread over his hands. He didn't know why he was staying so calm, or even if he was calm or was really just losing his mind… What am I doing? he thought, I'm just giving Voldemort more reason to hate me. He cast a glance at Adrienne, lying unconscious on the floor. It's just not me this time, I need to save her too, he reminded himself. 

"I should kill you now," Voldemort said, his eyes narrowing at Professor Wallace. 

"Yup, you probably should. Do I get a final request or anything… you know, a cigar, a prayer, an owl to my mother… or better yet, can I chose my means of demise?" she asked, cocking her head to the side and smiling. "I prefer to be eaten to death by piranhas, blue ones, in a large tropical oasis, during a full moon… the water has to be clear, that way I can see my blood spreading through it." 

"You're not amusing," Voldemort answered. He cast a hateful glance at her and turned around. "But, Wallace, it isn't quite your time, not just yet." 

Professor Wallace flashed a large grin at Harry and wiggled her eyebrows. What is she doing? Harry thought in alarm, she's going to get herself killed. Harry shook his head, remembering her speech; did she really think he had a chance against Voldemort, or at least a good chance? Harry twisted his bound hands, digging his nails into the ropes… they were giving a little. 

"I want you to wake the girl," Voldemort said. 

Wallace walked forward, her heels clicking on the floor. She put on a mock-thoughtful face and stopped at his side. 

"No," she finally replied, not looking at him. 

"Does that mean you cannot do it?" he hissed, glaring at her. 

"No, I just don't feel like it," Wallace replied, kneeling down and staring more closely at Adrienne. 

In a flash Voldemort had reached down and pulled Wallace back up, wrapping his arm around her neck and pulling her against his chest. 

"I am tired of your antics. You will do as I say, or your death will not be pleasant," he snarled. 

Professor Wallace gasped for breath. "Since when is death pleasant?" she breathed, her eyes stinging. 

Harry watched, working furiously at his bindings… if she could just distract him a little longer. 

"Wake the Perfect," Voldemort snapped, throwing her onto the floor next to Adrienne. 

"And if I don't?" Wallace asked slowly, rubbing her neck in pain, her eyes glittering maliciously. "What are you going to do? Kill me? Then you won't be able to wake her unless you find another healer…" 

"Wake the child," Voldemort growled, positioning his wand again on her heart. 

"Why, she will never help you," Wallace replied, bracing herself as Voldemort's hand began to shake in fury. 

"If you have so much faith in her, wake her up… either way she dies. But if she wakes, she may have the chance to escape, just like Potter's done so many times," Voldemort answered. 

Wallace stared up at him, reading his face, knowing that Voldemort was completely sure of himself this time, he didn't expect Adrienne or Harry to escape. 

Harry slid a few inches to his right to better see what was happening. He still hadn't gotten his bindings off, but if he could get them loose enough, it would only be a matter of time. 

Professor Wallace turned to Adrienne and slid a hand under her neck. "You cannot wake her, oh great master from Hell?" Wallace asked, glaring up at him. 

"No," Voldemort hissed in a deadly tone. "I was not trained to heal, but you were." 

"Hmmm, tough case," Wallace muttered, turning back to her. 

She brushed Adrienne's hair from her face and ran a finger along her cheek. 

"I'll need my wand, that is, if you really want me to do this," she instructed without looking up. 

Voldemort turned and motioned for the Death Eaters who had drug her in to step forward. They walked toward him, the one in the front pulling a wand from his pocket. 

"I'll kill you, Wallace, if you try and escape," Voldemort said, dropping the wand onto the floor next to her. He pointed his wand at the back of her head. "Don't try anything." 

Wallace reached for her wand, fighting the mad desire to scream out that she was surrounded by thirty Death Eaters and a crazed lunatic pointing a wand at her, what was she going to do, try and curse them all? She thought better of it and placed the tip of her wand on Adrienne's forehead. 

"I haven't practiced this in a long time," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. "I didn't like being a healer… that's why I quit. Signing my death warrant by joining murderous groups is more my cup of tea." 

"Shut up and wake the girl!" 

Wallace tapped Adrienne's head and muttered a few words, a light pink mist flowing from her wand. It hovered several inches over Adrienne's head, and then, as Adrienne breathed in, disappeared. Wallace waited a moment and then, a slight pink tinge began to cover Adrienne's skin. 

"It isn't her heart or her lungs… she's breathing fine and her heart is getting enough oxygen through the body. Did she hit her head?" Wallace asked, watching as the pink tinge faded. 

"She fell when she was stunned," Lucius answered. "I stunned her, I watched her fall, she hit her head, but it wasn't hard." 

Wallace stared at the girl. 

"Lumos," she whispered. She opened one of Adrienne's eyes and shined the light into it, and then, she did the same to the other. "Nox." 

"Are you ready to wake her?" Voldemort asked, his patience wearing thin. 

"If you would take better care of your prisoners, maybe she wouldn't be like this," Wallace snapped. She stared at Adrienne for a second. "I think it's a concussion, but a fall from being stunned, atop grass… I don't think that would have done it. She might have had an earlier injury, a pervious blow to the head… a fall maybe, this one may have just aggravated it." 

"Wake her," Voldemort ordered. 

"It isn't that simple," Wallace snapped, standing up. "This isn't a magical injury, but there is a magical cure. If you've already tried to rise her, then the stunning spell has been removed… I could wake her, but I'm not sure how well she will be." 

"I don't care… I need her awake," Voldemort answered, shoving her shoulder. 

Wallace fell back down to the ground, mumbling about violent morons. 

She placed her wand in the center of her right palm and shut her eyes, closing her hand over it. Harry watched in interest, his eyes squinted again. He had seen Madam Pomfrey do this before, or at least something like this. A small ball of blue light was building in Professor Wallace's hand, soon engulfing it. Harry turned his head slightly to the side, wondering where Professor Wallace had learned to be a healer. She didn't seem like the type, he thought. 

A new question pushed its way into his mind… what would happen to Professor Wallace after this. If he guessed right, she wouldn't have much energy. He had seen Madam Pomfrey do it once, his third year when he was in the hospital wing. A sixth year had fallen and knocked his head several weeks before Harry was admitted to the wing. The boy didn't wake up. Harry didn't know much about Muggle medicine, but he did know that the longer someone was unconscious, the less likely they'd wake up. The day Harry was to leave the wing, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore had decided that they should try and rouse the boy, realizing that nature wasn't going to do it. 

Harry had asked Hermione about the spell Madam Pomfrey had performed. Hermione had said it was something only healers knew… how to transfer energy from their wand to themselves so they could perform magic on the patient because often a wand couldn't be held with the various procedures. Madam Pomfrey had almost passed out afterward; Harry had the bad feeling that if Professor Wallace passed out, she wouldn't be waking up. 

Professor Wallace, her eyes blinking in the bright light, slowly opened her hand and pulled her wand out, depositing it on the ground. She pressed her hands together before her, the blue glow transferring to light up both her hands, the color diminishing as it moved up her arms. She closed her eyes and started chanting something Harry couldn't make out. It was a singsong pattern, and the intensity of the light changed with the pitch of her voice. 

Snapping her eyes open, Professor Wallace leaned forward and placed her hands on Adrienne's temples, the thumbs resting on the middle of the girl's forehead. Professor Wallace didn't move, her eyes staring into the closed lids of the girl before her. Then the color faded from her hands, as a deep feeling of blackness began to fill the back of her mind and she transferred some of her own consciousness to Adrienne, she dropped her hands and whispered, "Up, my child." 

Wallace placed her hands on either side of Adrienne's head, her hands warm against the cool floor, breathing heavily, her eyes still on the girl below her. "Wake up, Adrienne." 

Wallace slowly leaned back and sat upon her knees, her head spinning, her hands shaking. She reached down and pinched Adrienne's arm. 

Adrienne flinched and slowly opened her eyes, reaching an arm over to rub the one Wallace had pinched. 

"Stop poking me," Adrienne whined. She stared up at Professor Wallace with a bemused expression. "What?" 

"Well done, Wallace," came a familiar voice. 

Adrienne's eyes widened in recognition, but she couldn't see past the face of her old professor, who was still leaning over her, looking as if she didn't have the strength to get back up. 

Harry saw it coming even before the Death Eaters. He knew before Voldemort even opened his mouth, before Voldemort even tightened his grip on his wand. 

"Professor, watch out!" Harry screamed, trying to stand up, but overbalancing and falling backward instead. 

Adrienne, having no idea what was going on, heard Harry's scream and stared at Professor Wallace with a confused expression. For a split second Professor Wallace, too tired to move, stared at Adrienne, and then smiled slightly. 

"Be patient, play the game," she whispered to Adrienne right as the yell of "Avada Kedavra" filled the room. 

A flash of green light blocked Adrienne's vision and then she felt Professor Wallace fall atop her. She could smell the shampoo Wallace had used earlier that day; she felt her thick hair fall atop her face, and the weight of her body on her torso. Adrienne froze, her muscles seizing up… she's dead, Adrienne thought. 

"You killed her!" Adrienne screamed, raising her arms, which felt like lead, to push Professor Wallace off her. The woman rolled to Adrienne's left and lay there, a frightened grimace upon her face, her hand out to the side. Adrienne slowly sat up and stared at the body, an intense fear rising in her gut. 

"You killed her," Adrienne whispered again. 

"I didn't kill her," Voldemort answered, "She killed herself." 

He reached down and pulled Adrienne into a standing position, keeping a hand clamped atop her shoulder. Adrienne wavered, her head spinning. 

"Child, it's time. Wormtail, the Golden Serpent," Voldemort hissed, steering her away from Professor Wallace's body, where her eyes were still fixed. 

Harry lay on the floor, his eyes shut, still trying to work on his bindings. His mind was racing. Professor Wallace was dead; Adrienne was finally awake… What had Hermione said about the Golden Serpent? he thought. Suddenly he snapped his eyes open and sat back up. 

"Don't do it, Adrienne!" he called to her. 

Adrienne wrenched her eyes from Professor Wallace to Harry. She hadn't seen where he was before, only heard him yell. She stared at him, her eyes beginning to tear. I'm not going to help Voldemort, I'm not, she told herself as Voldemort let go of her and took several steps away so that they were facing each other. 

Harry watched as if everything was in slow motion. Everything was inching by. It even felt like his progress at his bindings was slowing. Wormtail approached cautiously, his small chubby fingers and his silvery hand carefully carrying the box before him. He was the only one beside Voldemort not wearing a hood, and he had aged substantially from the last time Harry had seen him. Voldemort wrenched it from Wormtail's grasp, and Wormtail retreated back to the Death Eaters, who had now formed a long line. 

"My faithful, the time is finally here." 

The large room was silent save for Voldemort's high voice, and the occasional whimpers from Adrienne, who still looked very groggy. 

"For more than a decade the world has waited with bated breath, hoping against hope that we were gone at last, that I was gone at last, that Harry Potter really did win," Voldemort drawled, holding the box before him. 

"But Potter didn't win, did he? We're not gone, are we? I'm back, aren't I?" he whispered, his red eyes flickering dangerously. 

"A thousand years ago, the noble Salazar Slytherin knew that we'd be challenged. He knew that the likes of Dumbledore would be bent on proving their righteousness, and he knew that the Dark Arts must win," Voldemort continued, his long fingers caressing the box in his hand. "So, with his infinite knowledge, admirable Slytherin prepared for us a weapon that would prove our might, prove our cause." 

Voldemort slowly opened the box and withdrew the Golden Serpent, the flickering torchlight glinting off it. 

"This, my faithful, this, is the key to our success," Voldemort hissed, his eyes filled with hunger. 

Adrienne swallowed, her mind racing. I could run for it, she thought, but then Harry would be stuck here. I could attack Voldemort, but I don't have a wand. She pursed her lips and closed her eyes. Yeah, this really bites… we're all going to die. 

Harry watched Adrienne, unable to make out her facial expressions. I need my glasses, he thought, as he wrenched his hands through the final strands of the rope. He rubbed his free wrists, blood running over his fingers, but kept them behind his back. 

Voldemort turned and Adrienne noticed he had two wands in his free hand. 

"Follow me, Perfect," he ordered, his red eyes glittering with excitement. 

Adrienne's legs obeyed and she found herself striding forward, again, her mind screaming at her to stop. Voldemort raised a hand, the hand holding the wands, to indicate her to stop walking. 

"That's my wand!" Adrienne whispered in amazement as the two wands caught the torchlight. "Why does he have my wand?" 

"There's someone I'd like you to meet, Harry," Voldemort said in a quiet voice, his face barely able to hold his joy. 

Harry looked up at Voldemort and Adrienne. Adrienne isn't on his side, he thought, look at her face… she's terrified, of what though… him, or me? 

"Seems she and I have met before," Harry replied, staring up into Voldemort's red eyes. He held his hands together behind himself, hoping that no one would notice he had ripped through his bindings. 

"Have you?" Voldemort asked in an amused tone. "I think you'll be duly surprised then. 

"I hate surprises," Harry answered back, staring up into the blurry face before him. "You can keep the surprises for yourself, thanks." 

A cruel grin spread across Voldemort's pale face. 

"Tsk. Tsk," he said with amusement. "Didn't those Muggles teach you any manners? You always accept a gift, or risk falling out of the giver's good favor." 

"I don't think I have to worry about that… it seems your good favor ran out way before my time," Harry replied. 

"Perfect," Voldemort instructed, casting his eyes to Adrienne, who was standing next to him. 

"I have a name," she murmured, feeling as if all her courage had been drained from her. I'm going to die, Harry's going to do, we're all going to die, she thought. 

Voldemort ignored her. 

"What do you know about the Golden Serpent?" he asked, slowly opening the box, keeping a good grip on the two wands in his left hand. 

Adrienne scowled. 

"Nothing," she lied. "Absolutely nothing." 

Harry stared at her, wondering if she had a plan or was just playing dumb for the heck of it. Voldemort seemed to believe her though. He nodded and stared into the open box. 

"Isn't it beautiful?" he whispered as he withdrew the small pendent. Adrienne looked at it. She had to admit...it was breathtaking. It looked like it was made of solid gold. The serpent's scales and marking were carefully carved, and two small emeralds served as eyes. 

"Yeah, if you're into old evil artifacts," she murmured, her eyes on the wand in his hand. "That's my wand," she finally said. 

Voldemort looked up from the serpent and stared at Harry for a second before turning to look at Adrienne. 

"Of course it is," he replied. 

"I'd like it back," Adrienne said, her voice less wobbly this time. 

Voldemort laughed. "And you think I'd just give you your wand because you'd like it back?" 

"It'd be a nice gesture," Adrienne replied, her own voice sounding as if it were miles away. 

Voldemort stared at her for a second, and then shook his head, a large smile crossing his face and his white teeth gleaming in the torchlight. 

"Take this instead," he said, turning to face her, extending the Golden Serpent toward her. "It was made for you." 

Adrienne's hand involuntarily reached out and her fingers enclosed upon the golden pendent held before her. Her heart clenched, her breath stopping in her throat, and she waited for some horrible event to happen. She had expected some sort of popping noise, or maybe a flash of light or some sparks… Nothing happened though. Not even a fizzle came from the serpent. 

Harry stared at the blurry images of Voldemort and Adrienne before him. Why did she just take it from him? Harry thought, horrified. She obeys him; she doesn't usually listen to anyone. He stared at her, trying to figure out what was happening, cursing himself: If Hermione had come, she'd know why Adrienne was acting so strange. 

Adrienne stared at her hand, her eyes tracing the gold chain that was protruding from her fingers and snaking downward. I thought something was supposed to happen, she mused to herself. That's what Hermione said, when a Perfect touched it, the spell is activated. 

"It's a dud," Adrienne muttered, vaguely aware of a small smile creeping across her face. 

When a Perfect touches the Serpent, Hermione said the spell would be activated, Harry thought, why didn't it work? 

For a moment the room was silent, as one by one the lined Death Eaters slowly dropped their heads, disappointed expressions crossing their hooded faces. And then, in a rage of fury, Voldemort's scream roared through the room, and Adrienne flew backward with the force of his slap, her cheek stinging from where he had hit her. 

"Insolent child!" Voldemort screamed at her, his eyes widening in fury. "What did you do? Answer my question!" 

"I held the pendant?" Adrienne mumbled, her words barely recognizable. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry flinch… his right arm escaping involuntarily from behind him. 

"Stay there!" Voldemort flung himself around and lunged at Harry. Harry didn't even have time to draw his arms from behind himself before Voldemort yanked him to his feet and threw him backward onto the wall. With a yelp, Harry slid down the wall, his hands scratching the rough surface with his descent. 

"So, you untied yourself?" Voldemort asked, stopping right before Harry and glaring down upon him. 

Harry didn't reply. He didn't even look up. 

"Stand up," Voldemort hissed. 

Harry stared at the floor. 

"You dare defy me, boy?" Voldemort asked, his voice dangerously low. 

Harry didn't move, but unlike the many times before, when he had felt frozen to his spot because of fear, this time he didn't move because he was too busy thinking of what possible attempt at escape he could make. As Voldemort reached down, obviously remembering that the Imperious Curse didn't work on Harry, Harry again noticed the two wands in his hand. 

"If you had brought your wand, everything would be a lot easier," Voldemort hissed in his ear as he pulled Harry forward. 

For a moment, Harry thought of trying to make a grab for one of the wands, but then he remembered that there was a large group of very mean hooded wizards standing less than thirty feet away, all of them, most likely, itching to have a go at him. What does he mean: If I had brought my wand? Harry mused, what would that have done? His wand and my wand can't duel each other. And then it hit him, a crazy thought, a thought that broke every rule of cures and charms he had ever learned. Harry raised his head and cast a quick glance at Adrienne, who was still standing in the corner, the Golden Serpent held loosely in her hand. She's not moving, Harry realized… he told her not to move. Back at Hogwarts Adrienne wanted to learn more about controlling curses… 

"I may have underestimated you before, Potter," Voldemort snapped, pushing Harry onto the ground in the middle of the room, and beginning to prowl around him, "but I learned from that mistake." 

Voldemort looked at him quizzically, as if he was battling with some difficult reasoning. 

Harry had turned his attention to Professor Wallace's body, which was lying only a few feet away. Something was lying next to her, right next to her pocket. Harry at first couldn't believe his eyes, and considering that he could barely see, didn't trust them at all. But after a few seconds of squinting and blinking, he realized, with complete assurance, that a pair of glasses, his glasses, was lying next to her. They must have fallen from her pocket, he thought, but how did she get them? 

"Was I wrong to believe that she," Voldemort cast a dark glance at Adrienne, who was watching, a horrified expression on her face, but still rooted to her spot, "may indeed be one of the great Perfects? I admit, I could have been wrong… Dumbledore could have been wrong." 

Harry, very reluctantly, looked up at Voldemort, squinting his blurry eyes, wondering where he was going with this. 

"What if it is you?" Voldemort said this with a tinge of skepticism, but all the same, his eyes pierced Harry's in a searching manner. "That Serpent was made for one of you. What if we've all been wrong?" 

Harry glanced from Voldemort's right hand, where the two wands were tightly held, back to Adrienne, who was staring intently at him. 

"What have you done to her?" Harry asked in a defiant tone, his green eyes flashing at Voldemort. "It's not the Imperious Curse, what is it?" 

"What Curse is it?" Voldemort answered, this time, his voice filling with an emotion Harry couldn't name. Was it pride, or sarcasm, or an uncalled for aloofness? 

"She's been acting funny since the Holiday," Harry pressed on, the small flame of confidence that had been harbored deep inside his chest billowing through his body: He had a plan, a very faulty plan that relied much on chance and very unlikely happenings, but a plan none-the-less. 

"Her original behavior, I cannot claim credit for," Voldemort answered, and Harry realized that he had transferred a wand to both of his hands now. "She did that herself, worrying about what had really happened the night I attacked the Gallows, worrying why it happened, placing the blame on herself. I just played on it, used it to my advantage." Voldemort, his eyes boring straight into Harry's, smiled amusedly. 

"She was weak to begin with, unsure, nervous about her clumsiness, easily manipulated," Voldemort continued. "All she had to her credit was some lucky flying skills and a natural dueling ability, and perhaps some outstanding endurance. But she doesn't have much brains. She brought it upon herself, losing her wand in the forest. She didn't even bother to find it." 

"So you found her wand? Why do you need it?" Harry asked, although he had an idea why, but he didn't know how plausible it was, or even practical. 

"Dumbledore and all his holier-than-thou predecessors have always thought they've known all there is to know about Magic. They've paraded around that all the spells, even the ancient ones, the ones developed just after the fall of the Perfect Art, are in their complete knowledge, that no new spells will be discovered, only developed. They, Harry Potter, were very wrong." 

Harry didn't like the sound of this, and he had a feeling that if Hermione were here, she wouldn't like it either. Adrienne had requested a book tracing the roots of the Imperious Curse… what if there was another curse, one that no one knew of, or had forgotten, one that Dumbledore had overlooked. Harry didn't like the sound of that at all. 

"What Dumbledore and the rest of the bungling Ministry officials don't know, is that before Slytherin died, he had hidden a spell book, containing many spells he had developed in secret, many spells derived directly from his own Perfect spells." 

"How did you end up with it?" Harry asked, wondering why he was entertaining a conversation with Voldemort, it really was a crazy idea. 

"Privilege of being his heir… passed down through the generations, Potter… not by word of mouth," Voldemort continued, reading Harry's confused expression. "My father, he knew nothing of the power running on my mother's blood, and even if he did, he wouldn't have cared. I have always known the spellbook's location and exactly how to retrieve it." 

Harry was about to ask why no one else had found it if it'd been hidden for a thousand years, but then realized that perhaps he didn't really want to know. Images of horrible deaths of evil wizards trying to fight they're way through challenges of spells and curses to a hidden room with a bunch of musty spellbooks blazed through his mind. He wondered why Voldemort had to be the one to finally retrieve the book. 

"You didn't assume that the Imperious Curse was the only controlling curse, did you?" Voldemort asked with amusement. "Of course you did. There were only rumors that another existed, rumors fed through word of mouth, generation to generation, that eventually became legends… fables. Dumbledore, along with several others through the years, seemed to see past the rumors, and have searched for evidence of another spell, but never found one. You need Slytherin's blood, Harry, to open the vaults that held the book." 

"What does her wand have to do with it?" Harry asked slowly, biting his lip out of nervousness. 

"A wand has a direct link to its owner, that's why a wizard's own wand will work the best for only him. Her wand was part of the spell." 

"You made her do all those things. You made her lose her duels and miss the match. You made her attack Parvati and Lavender, and… Draco?" Harry asked, a horrible understanding developing in his mind. 

"Not Draco, she did that herself. That temper of hers would serve me well if she'd only join me," Voldemort said, his face souring. Harry swallowed as he realized that Voldemort was no longer in the talking mood. Now or never, Harry thought. 

"The curse, or whatever it is, that you have Adrienne under, perhaps she can't activate the spell under it… it might require her free will," Harry breathed, blinking and grimacing slightly at his dizzying headache. 

"And free her from the curse, give her back her wand?" Voldemort laughed, and Harry's memory was flooded with the endless nights in his cupboard, that laugh, then unknown and insignificant, his only company. 

"You think I'm that foolish, to give her back her wand? Give that girl back her best weapon?" Voldemort laughed again. 

Harry gritted his teeth. "She can't do anything against all of you, why not?" 

"You want me to turn my back on you, to turn my attention from you to her? And let you try and escape?" Voldemort seemed amused at this. 

"Willing to sacrifice her to save yourself?" Voldemort pressed. 

Harry didn't reply, vowing to let Voldemort think whatever he wanted. 

"Lucius, Wormtail!" 

Harry heard the shuffling of feet behind him and the sweeping of cloaks upon the ground and then he felt two rough hands grab his shoulders. Wormtail was standing at Harry's left, his silvery right hand digging into Harry's flesh, making Harry think that he'd lose circulation to his left hand. Lucius was on his right. 

"Watch him," Voldemort ordered, and then turned around. 

Adrienne watched Voldemort approach, her nerves throughout her body screaming for her to move, run, hide… but he had told her to stay there and no matter how her body protested, she couldn't escape his command. She didn't understand what Harry was doing, especially why he was helping Voldemort. Did he think that if Voldemort gave her back her wand, they'd be in any better position? 

"My head hurts," Harry lied, although he was a little dizzy, blinking rapidly and squeezing his facial muscles. "Can I sit down?" 

Lucius and Wormtail ignored him. They were staring intently at Voldemort, who had stopped several feet before Adrienne and had raised his wand. 

Adrienne, still holding the Golden Serpent, stared at him, still feeling somewhat out of her body. 

"Catch," Voldemort ordered, and tossed her wand into the air. Adrienne stared in horror as it flew toward her. Don't catch it, her mind screamed, you're holding the pendant… but her hand flew up to meet it, and right before she caught it, a miraculous idea filled her head, drop the pendant… he had never said she had to hold it the entire time. 

As Adrienne's left hand, for the first time in almost six months, enclosed around her wand, the sound of metal clinking against the marble floor filled the room. Harry, rolling his eyes up, threw himself forward, and then collapsed, falling out of Lucius and Wormtail's grasp, which they had lessened in surprise at the breaking of the silence. Harry, pushing his weight to his left, his eyes held closed, flung his arm to the side. He wrapped his fingers around his glasses and laid still. 

Adrienne screamed as her left hand finalized its grip on her wand, her neck arcing backward in pain as a rapid flow of movement caroused through her body, beginning at her head and flowing down, centering itself in her chest, right over her heart. She felt as if she were burning, her entire body on fire, her screams echoed through the room, and small smiles of satisfaction spread over the hooded faces. The curse, Adrienne assumed, as the pain in her chest began to dissipate and spread up to her left arm and toward her wand, was easy to place on a person. Removing the curse, and all the control and dark magic that had been harboring inside the victim, was a different story, she thought. The last remnants of pain flew from her fingers into her wand and suddenly Adrienne was silent, her neck in a normal position, her eyes fixated upon the ground, her shoulders slumped. 

"Pick up the Golden Serpent," Voldemort ordered, tightening his grip on his wand, and pointing it straight at her heart. 

Adrienne slowly looked up, her eyes running down the length of his wand, up his arm, and situating themselves upon his eyes. 

"Let me think about that," she said in a soft voice. "No." She raised her left arm into the air and pointed it straight at Voldemort. "I don't feel like it." 

Voldemort's eyes flashed. "Pick up the pendent." 

Adrienne, tightening her grip on her wand, wondering if she dared duel the Dark Lord. "I won't." 

Adrienne swallowed again, her heart beginning to pound and her arm beginning to shake. Her eyes widened slightly in fear: She had never felt like this before, not even at a match, never felt this vulnerable. She didn't understand it; she did have her wand… her real wand. The wand in which she had won so many matches, claimed an international title… 

"You're afraid, Perfect. You don't think you can beat me. You know you can't beat me. Your eyes show it all," Voldemort hissed, glaring at her. "What good is a dueling in a competition if you can't do it in real life? Training for medals isn't the same as training to survive." 

Adrienne pursed her lips and with great effort, steadied her arm. 

"I won't help you." 

"You will, or I'll kill him." Voldemort jumped backward and to the side, turning to point his wand at Harry, who was lying on the ground, Lucius and Wormtail standing behind him, seeing no reason to raise Harry from the ground. 

Adrienne rolled her eyes and turned her gaze to fall upon Harry. 

"You're going to kill an unconscious boy?" she said with contempt. "And forego the opportunity to prove to the entire wizarding world that the great and mighty, if not extremely ugly, Lord Voldemort is in fact greater than The Boy Who Lived?" Adrienne shrugged her shoulders. "Fine with me, but I was expecting a little more umpf in the victory." 

"It is your choice, you can either pick up the pendent and in return duel me for his life," Voldemort reasoned, his eyes fixated upon her but his wand upon Harry, "Or you can refuse and watch him die… how many people would then have died because of you?" 

Adrienne glared at Voldemort. "I'm getting tired of this argument… who died because of whom… it all gets rather confusing." 

As an instinct, Adrienne turned her attention to Harry. With unbelievable quickness, Adrienne saw one of his eyes open and he raised his left hand slightly. The lens of his glasses reflected the torchlight, and then… realizing that all eyes were on Voldemort and Adrienne, Harry raised his hand to his face and quickly, but effectively pointed to his scar. 

They were three simple actions, but their importance was not lost to Adrienne. She looked back at Voldemort, her heart tight in her chest, the feeling of nervousness overtaking her again. His scar, Adrienne realized… his parents, our parents she corrected, died to protect him… my professors, the people at the Gallows; they died, but not for the same reason… 

"They didn't die because of me… they died because of you," she said in a soft voice, her eyes narrowed at Voldemort. "They died just like the others you had killed, they died because you felt like killing. They didn't know you were coming for me… and everyone in the Gallows and at Salem would have fought you anyway, whether they knew or not." 

Adrienne was keenly aware of Voldemort's wand still pointed at Harry, his red eyes piercing hers, and the faces of the many hooded Death Eaters all fixated on the scene before them. But Adrienne, felt as if she was watching from afar, as if she was in one of her dreams that she had had while attending Salem her previous years. She had begun to shake again… and deep down she knew that she was no match for Voldemort. That whether she could duel in a ring or not, he was right, she was in no condition, and very out of practice to be dueling for her life, let alone the life of another. 

"I have nothing to prove to you… Professor Mondel, Professor Sloan, all of them… they're dead, and I can't change that…" Adrienne paused, wondering where she was going with her speech, because she had no idea. She had just started speaking, perhaps as a way to stall, or perhaps because she wasn't really talking to Voldemort, but to herself. 

"You want me to pick up that little pendent," Adrienne said nodding to the Golden Serpent at her feet. "I don't want to. And whether you threaten Harry, or me, or anyone else, I won't." 

"Brave show of courage – " 

"Don't interrupt me – I'm on a role," Adrienne said, almost forgetting she was talking back to the Dark Lord himself. "Where was I?" 

"This will be the last time I tell you," Voldemort hissed, "Pick up the pendent." 

"Or what, Harry dies?" Adrienne asked, her eyes flitting back to Harry, who was now watching with both his eyes open. Give me your wand, he mouthed to her. Adrienne paused for a moment, thinking, and then pursed her lips, having made up her mind. "I am definitely the wrong person to be negotiating someone else's life… and I don't think Harry would want me negotiating for him. But," Adrienne turned her attention from Harry back to Voldemort, "he saved me, so I owe him… if I pick up the Serpent, we duel?" she asked. 

"We duel," Voldemort answered, a small flicker of triumph flying across his face. 

Adrienne nodded and slowly bent down, her eyes flying up to meet Harry's, and she winked. Suddenly Adrienne sprang back up, her hair flying back over her head in a straight sheet, and she threw her wand into the air. Harry, at the same time slammed his glasses onto his face, the world coming into perfect focus and his headache lessening slightly. Voldemort watched the wand fly through the air, completely forgetting about just killing Harry then and there and being done with it. But before he could cast a spell to stop it, Harry had leapt into a standing position and deftly caught the wand. He raised it to point at Voldemort, turning his left foot slightly to the side, and tightening his grip. Lucius and Wormtail, along with the other Death Eaters, fumbled for their wands, raising them in a wavering unison. 

"No," Voldemort hissed to his Death Eaters, "The wands are different this time. Potter and I will finish what we started. Get the girl, alive." 

Those words rocketed through Adrienne and jarred her to her senses. 

"Oh holy mother of everything important, I just threw away my wand," she whispered as she lunged to her right, running as fast as she could as curses hit the wall behind her. Slipping and sliding along the marble floor, Adrienne headed for the staircase at the far end of the room, the staircase that led to the balcony above. 

Adrienne knew exactly where she was, or had a rough idea at least. It was the new Ministry Judiciary Center, a very uncompleted judiciary center to be exact. Muggle-borns, or wizards who hadn't been raised in a magical setting were both always surprised at the amount of time it took to raise a wizarding building. Everyone assumed that Magic would make it go faster, but it didn't. Building inspectors had to be called in to supervise construction, all the spells cast had to be documented and signed by a Ministry official… so, Magic only saved a few days or sometimes weeks from construction time. 

Adrienne grabbed the end of the solid banister and flung herself up the staircase, rejoicing in the fact that the railing on the edge of the staircase was solid and not striated with small wooden or metal rails. Adrienne heard the thunder of footsteps behind her, coming from the lower courtroom, which was located in the basement, and crossed her fingers as she hurtled up the stairs. 

"I wish I had my wand," she muttered as she reached the top of the balcony. 

It was a fairly small room compared to the lower courtroom, and was not as near to being completed as the other one. Large ladders were propped against the back wall, where Adrienne assumed the Wizards used to better place their charms. There were no torches lit here and the only light was that emitting from the lower room, but in the shadowy darkness Adrienne could make out a large cauldron in the center of the room. Adrienne ran toward it, slid behind it, and waited there, her heart beating out of control, her mind racing… she needed to find a defense, and quick. 

****

Voldemort and Harry stood at the ready, their wands pointed at each other, their gazes set, unfazed by the shower of curses flying around them, or the sound of Adrienne retreating toward the balcony. 

"Your sister deserted you," Voldemort drawled, a smug expression on his pale face. 

Harry licked his lower lip from nerves. "She doesn't need a wand anyway." 

Voldemort smiled, the same evil grin that had been haunting Harry occasionally in his sleep. 

"Your sister is as much a Perfect as you are a normal boy," Voldemort laughed. "The only normal about you, Potter, is that you have two hands, two feet, and a head… but that can be changed." 

"We bow, or do you no longer believe in observing the niceties," Harry answered. 

Voldemort didn't seem ready to drop the topic. "You are so ready to believe that she can fend for herself? You think that just because she has the title of a Perfect, that she's some great witch? She is weak, she is easily manipulative, and she is little better than a squib in everything except dueling… and she's only good at dueling, I suspect, because she's been able to access her Perfect abilities in that case. She won't do much more than that. Fate picked a lousy person to bestow the gift upon… she needs a wand just as much as you do." 

Another grin announced Voldemort's satisfaction. 

Harry shook his head, his mind remarkably calm… it's only a duel, he thought… I can duel, I can win. 

"I didn't say she was any better off because she's a Perfect," Harry replied, "I said she didn't need a wand, read into that whatever you like." 

"Enough with your games, did you learn from her, or she from you… you both waste time. We bow, Harry Potter, and soon you're entire family will be reunited." 

Locking eyes, the two wizards slowly bowed, Voldemort barely moving, Harry following the same suit. For a moment the two stared at each other, Harry remembering the last time he had faced Voldemort. He had survived because of their wand's relationship, but this time he was dueling with Adrienne's wand. This wand was foreign to him, and there would be no surprise spells to save him this time… it was all up to him. 

"Crucio!" Voldemort screamed, not ready to kill Harry… he had to pay, he had to know that his survival was just luck. 

Harry, expecting this, although he didn't know why, dove to the side, shooting the Impediment Curse at Voldemort, who blocked it easily. 

"Stupefy!" Harry screamed, realizing that surviving this duel might be much harder than he ever dreamed. 

The two circled each other, Voldemort cutting closer to Harry than he would have ever been allowed to if it were a competition. Voldemort had been right, competition dueling and real dueling were far different. 

Voldemort, having sent the Cruciatus Curse again at Harry, lunged toward him, using the time Harry took to block the curse to close the distance between the two. Harry lunged forward, ducking under Voldemort and shooting the Body-bind Curse at him, but Voldemort was too quick and deflected it. A squeal from behind Harry announced that the deflected curse had hit one of Voldemort's Death Eaters, and the thump of his body falling upon the floor confirmed it. 

****

The muttering of multiple "Lumos" filled the room with light and Adrienne wondered if the Death Eaters would first check under the ladders, which were covered with sheets. She was just about to stick her head out to see where they were when she noticed the large jugs at her feet: Potions ingredients. A sudden movement on her right drew her attention and as she jumped up, her hand brushed upon something long and wooden on the edge of the cauldron. Adrienne grabbed it and threw it before her. 

"Don't move, I have a…" and then she realized she was holding the edge of a wooden ladle. "I have… a…" her mouth dropped in protest at her being surrounded by Death Eaters and being unarmed, "I have a wooden ladle… and if you don't leave me alone, I'll… I'll…" 

"You'll what, stir us?" someone suggested sardonically. 

Adrienne bit her lip and then raised her hands into the air. 

"I relinquish my ladle," she said in a dejected tone, cursing herself for getting startled and jumping up into their waiting arms. 

"Are you sure you and Potter are related?" asked a Death Eater, walking forward, and removing his hood, tossing it to the ground. Adrienne stared at him for a second, and then sneered. 

"Oh, you're Draco's father, are you?" Adrienne replied, "I could tell by your sunny expression." 

"Shut up," Lucius snapped, flicking his wand to the side to indicate her stepping from behind the cauldron. 

"What do you want us to do to her?" 

"Can we torture her… I haven't used the Cruciatus Curse in a good many years." 

"I know… let's beat her over the head and throw her into a lake." 

"No, let's put her under the Imperious Curse and make her hang herself." 

"I'm all for a quick and clean killing curse – " Wormtail interjected. 

"He wants her alive," Lucius snapped. 

"And I'm all for a 'let's let bygones be bygones, a quick exchange of hugs and addresses, and a cheerful "good-bye and enjoy the night," for all parties concerned," Adrienne suggested hopefully. 

"No," Lucius replied, "I don't think that one will work." 

"We could always try," Adrienne replied, taking a step back from him and backing into a very large Death Eater. She jumped forward, turning to look at him and exclaiming, "Oh! Pardon me!" 

Adrienne turned back to Lucius, who was moving closer to her, and the other Death Eaters who were grouped around the room, their stances showing their disappointment at not being able to take part in torturing Adrienne. Adrienne swallowed. 

"So, I take it you heard about me and Draco," she said timidly, seriously regretting throwing her wand to Harry. 

"The Malfoy name, Perfect, is one you show respect to. It would do you good to learn that," Lucius hissed. 

"Well, I learned it, lesson over, let's all pack up and go home," she said hastily, her face losing color. 

"That isn't how it works," Lucius replied. "I heard you're some hot-shot dueler… or you were. But you couldn't face the Dark Lord?" Lucius said this with amusement, his gray eyes flickering evilly. 

"Yeah, he kind of scares me… you know, just a little," Adrienne answered, scanning the room for some sort of escape. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the Death Eater she had run into before, standing slightly to her right now. 

"You have plenty to be afraid of, little girl," Lucius said, fixating his wand on her. 

****

Had Harry been a little less concerned about trying to block the various curses hurtling toward him through the darkened room, he might have wondered how Adrienne was getting along. He might have even chanced a glance over his shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of her at the balcony. 

"Expelliarmus!" Voldemort hissed, trying for the umpteenth time to disarm Harry. 

Harry, with a massive lunge to the right, dodged the spell and its successor, the Impediment Curse, barely being able to position his wand to block the Cruciatus Curse. 

Harry's legs felt like lead, as did his wand arm. Beads of sweat were running down his face, causing his glasses to slip down the bridge of his nose, increasing his rising paranoia that he couldn't hold a defense against Voldemort much longer. Professors Lycé and McGonagall had constantly lectured them that it was always best to be on the offensive, for acting in defense never left room to initiate an attack, which he was quickly learning. 

"Anoptico!" Harry rushed, finding time right after another block against the Stunning Spell to begin his first offense in the last few minutes of the duel. 

Voldemort, his long black cloak swishing behind him, stepped out of the curses' way, but this time, to Harry's great approval, seemed a little slow. He's tiring, Harry thought with a subdued relief. 

Between the short breaks of yelling spells and curses, and the shuffle of feet as he and Voldemort circled each other, Harry thought he heard the shatter of glass or something breakable echoing through the room. Voldemort, Harry noticed, heard it as well, because his red eyes on several occasions, though not long enough to give Harry an advantage, slipped to glance at the balcony. 

"How long do you think she'll last before she gives in, before she begs for her life," Voldemort hissed, his breath heavy, as he blocked several of Harry's curses. 

"She won't help you," Harry answered, lunging out of the way of yet another curse. 

"She has no choice. If she doesn't, I'll kill you." 

"Stupefy! You'll kill me anyway," Harry answered, furrowing his brow. 

Not one had made any headway in cursing the other, not one curse had even reached its destination, and Harry made a mental note to, if he survived, thank McGonagall for always making him practice extra on blocking techniques. 

"I'm surprised they haven't brought her down yet. Crucio! She can't be that hard to capture." 

"Furniculous!" Harry screamed, and then realized that wasn't even a curse that would benefit him at all in the duel. Voldemort, on the other hand, didn't notice and just brushed it aside. 

"No matter, there's no exit up there, she can't escape," Voldemort said with satisfaction. "Expelliarmus." 

Lunging out of the way, Harry positioned his wand to try a new approach… the hovering charm, perhaps if Voldemort suddenly was rocketed into the air, it would give Harry a chance to escape. But, as Harry opened his mouth to yell 'Wingardium Leviosa,' his fingers holding Adrienne's wand in a death grip, a brilliant flash of light and a large BANG filled the air, followed by the thumping and bumping of someone tumbling down the stairs. 

Voldemort and Harry, for a second, both stared at the person crumpled at the foot of the stairs. Then, without thinking, pulling himself out of the shock of the explosion, Harry turned back to Voldemort and yelled the first thing that came to mind: "Oblivate!" 

Harry watched as a burst of light flew from Adrienne's wand, and he watched as Voldemort, in vain, tried to block it, but he wasn't quick enough. The spell hit him square between the eyes, and he stumbled backward. Harry dropped his wand arm and raced toward the staircase. He was suddenly very aware that the balcony, semi-clouded in a mist of smoke, was standing atop large, cracked pillars. He was also quite aware of the fact that there were large orange flames soaring toward the ceiling, coupled with the mingled shouts of the Death Eater's attempts to put them out. 

"Adrienne?" Harry called as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure he had successfully hit Voldemort; he had, but by the look on Voldemort's face, Harry was quite sure that the memory charm didn't have quite the same effect on him as it did on Lockhart. 

"That wasn't standard dueling procedure," chided the figure at the foot of the staircase, who had pulled herself off the ground and was trying very hard to maintain her balance. 

"Adrienne!" Harry ran forward and grabbed her shoulders to keep her standing. Her face was covered in soot, and there was a large gash above her right eye, but other than that, she looked perfectly fine. "What did you do?" 

"Never mind that, we have to go," Adrienne muttered, shaking her head, and trying to walk forward, but quickly abandoned that idea as she misplaced her foot step and stumbled. Harry caught her. 

"There they are!" 

Both Harry and Adrienne jumped at the scream, and barely stepped out of the way of a badly aimed Stunning Spell. 

"Run!" Harry screamed, grabbing her hand and pulling her forward. 

The room had filled quickly with a dense smoke. It seemed that none of the Death Eaters had had any success with trying to douse the flames and had instead turned their attentions to chasing Harry and Adrienne. Others went to investigate why Voldemort, a gleam of understanding slowly returning to his eyes, was watching the scene with mild trepidation. 

"Where are we going?" Harry hissed as he and Adrienne pushed their way through a large stone door, barely visible in all the smoke. 

"We're in the Ministry Judiciary Center… I just blew up a Ministry building," Adrienne said, stopping suddenly in her tracks in the middle of a long hallway, which still had yet to be carpeted. "I'm going to be in SO much trouble!" 

Harry, who hadn't stopped running, doubled back, slipping on the flooring, and grabbing onto a nearby ladder to keep from falling. 

"Never mind that, keep moving!" Harry urged, again grabbing Adrienne's hand and pulling her through the hallway. "Do you know which way is out?" 

"We're in the basement, we have to go up," Adrienne replied, her head swinging back and forth, helping to search for a stairwell. 

Harry and Adrienne pushed their way through a glass door and found themselves in yet another hallway. 

"Hold on, do you have my wand?" she asked as they made their way toward a large staircase directly ahead of them. 

"Yeah," Harry panted, raising his left hand to show it to Adrienne. 

"Good," Adrienne replied. 

They continued running, Adrienne a little lopsidedly, making Harry wonder how much being stunned had affected her. She had suffered more head injuries than anyone he knew… perhaps that's why she's so bad at magic, he thought. 

"Stupefy!" 

Harry yanked Adrienne into the curled staircase and they watched as the jet of white light chipped stones from the stairwell's wall, much to close for comfort. 

"They're going to catch us!" Adrienne hissed, "do something!" 

"Just keep running!" Harry ordered, pushing her up the staircase ahead of him, the echo of footsteps behind them getting closer. 

"There's too many!" Adrienne exclaimed as they neared the large opening into the lobby. "We're going to die!" she muttered dejectedly. 

Rolling his eyes, his heart thudding in his chest, the sound of footsteps behind them, Harry thrust Adrienne's wand into her hand and threw her arm into the air. 

"Transfigure the ceiling, turn it into something big… like a stone statue," he ordered, pulling her to the side of the stairwell as another curse flew past them. 

"Right, I can't transfigure anything, remember!" Adrienne cried in exasperation. 

"DO IT!" Harry screamed at her as they ran into the lobby. 

"Fine!" Adrienne threw her arm over her head and before they had taken two steps, a massive rumble emitted, and they spun around. The ceiling of the stairwell had caved in. 

"It'll take them a few minutes to move that," Harry said, running a relieved hand through his hair. Adrienne turned to look at him, her face pale. She opened her mouth to say something, but Harry interrupted her. 

"Come on, let's get back to Salem before anyone else follows us," Harry said, grabbing her hand again and pulling her toward the center of the lobby. 

Large glass doors were centered ahead of them, opening up into the dark night. Heavy sheets of rain were pelting against the windows, and small puddles of water were seeping through under the doors. 

Adrienne followed behind Harry, keeping his hand in a death grip, involuntarily checking behind herself every few seconds. It was quite a ways to Salem, she thought, especially in the pouring rain. She was too busy with her thoughts, and Harry too busy focusing on reaching the large glass doors, to notice the buckling of the floor beneath them, but they did notice the heat radiating from it. 

Before Harry could say anything, with a loud sickening crack, the floor gave way beneath him. Harry leapt forward and Adrienne screamed, yanking his arm, pulling him backward onto the ground. 

"Hold on, Adrienne!" he shouted as he rolled onto his stomach and tightened his grip on Adrienne's hand, which was the only part of her body still above the floor. The rest of her was dangling through a large hole in the floor, and a large mountain of black smoke was billowing through it, pushing its way to the glass dome at the ceiling. 

"Pull me up!" Adrienne ordered as she reached up and grabbed the top of Harry's hand with her other hand, jamming her wand into his flesh. The edges of the hole were beginning to fall too, the part Harry was on, growing extremely hot. 

Adrienne, her eyes tearing from the heat of the fire below, glanced over her shoulder wondering if anyone was still down they're, not on the balcony, but in the lower courtroom. There was. Barely, through the dense smoke, she thought she could see two red dots glowing at her. 

"PULL ME UP!" she screamed again as Harry heaved backward and moved her a couple inches nearer the surface of the hole. 

"Avada Kedavra!" 

Through the mountains of black smoke, shot a stream of sharp, green light, which flew straight up. Harry started and dropped Adrienne back a few inches as the green light hit the center of the dome and the glass cracked. This sent several large pieces falling down to the lobby, one landing at the edge of the hole and taking a large piece of flooring down to the courtroom below. 

"He's going to kill us!" Adrienne hissed, as Harry tried again to pull her up, this time more successful as her head and shoulders surfaced from the hole. Another yell of 'Avada Kedavra' rang and another blindly aimed curse hit another piece of the dome, sending more glass showering down. 

With one last effort, Harry heaved Adrienne onto the floor and pulled her forward, just as Voldemort had again tried the killing curse, this time with much more accuracy, as the green light shot through the space Adrienne had just been occupying. The glass dome cracked even more with the impact. 

Adrienne and Harry both lay on the ground for a second, fully aware of the shards of glass falling around them, and the yells of Avada Kedavra echoing below them. 

"Come on, Adrienne," Harry urged, jumping up and shaking small pieces of glass from his hair, "That entire dome's going to fall… and we're under it." 

Adrienne nodded and pulled herself up, her face pale, looking somewhat disoriented; her eyes watering, a hand clutching her chest as she breathed. 

"I held my breath," Harry answered before Adrienne could ask why the smoke hadn't made him ill too. 

"Smart," Adrienne muttered, and then, wand in hand, followed Harry toward the double doors. 

The rain was coming down in torrents, and a cold wind was ravaging the air, pulling at the shutters of various buildings, pushing trees toward the ground, and making Harry and Adrienne run slightly lopsided. They hadn't run more than fifty feet though, when the shouts of Death Eaters behind them told them that their blockade of the stairwell hadn't lasted. 

Harry and Adrienne veered to the right, out of the open road. Adrienne was leading now, and had handed her wand back to Harry, so he could use it if need be. 

"How far away is Salem?" Harry panted. "Impedimentia!" He yelled as he pointed his wand over his shoulder to try to stop the Death Eaters who had just barely missed stunning them. 

"From here? Ten minutes if we're lucky," she said, bending down as she ran to pick up what looked like a large rock, which, as she straightened, threw at a large window of shop before them. A loud piercing scream from the magical alarm filled the air. 

"Now the good guys know where we are," she said, and then motioning to Harry, who was trying to curse three Death Eaters behind him, pushed her way through the remaining glass window and entered the shop. 

The shop was small and filled with shadows. Along a wall were cases of things Harry couldn't make out in the dark, but as he neared them, walking sideways so his back wasn't to the broken window, he realized what they were: Broomsticks. 

Adrienne reached up to the case in the far back and pulled out a broomstick and tossed it to him. Harry looked at it and then shook his head. 

"I'm not stealing a broomstick," Harry answered, his green eyes flashing. "I'm not stealing a broomstick." 

The clink of glass behind them indicated that the Death Eaters had too entered the store. 

"That's what they want you to do," she whispered as she and Harry snuck behind a long rack of discount brooms. "Mr. Goody-Two Shoes Potter would never steal a broom…" Adrienne flashed Harry a big smile, which he could barely see in the dark. "But me… who knows what I would do." 

They reached the end of the rack and Harry slowly stuck his head around to look into the greater part of the shop. The Death Eaters were almost to the rack, following along the broom cases on the wall, their wands raised. Outside the building, Harry could make out several figures milling about. 

"Fine, but we're returning the brooms later. You ready then?" Harry asked, mounting his broom. 

"You think we can out fly the curses?" Adrienne asked, mounting hers too. 

"Well, I'd rather try than sit here and see if we can out run them," Harry replied. 

Then, with a quick look around, rocketed forward, bent low over his broomstick. 

"They're escaping!" 

Harry and Adrienne flew out of the window, Harry pulling up hard and beginning a quick ascent, Adrienne, with a slight delay, following behind. Harry barreled to the right and then dived down behind the shops, flying through an alleyway, Adrienne right behind him. 

"Where do I go?" Harry asked, the rain pelting against his face. 

"To the Quidditch stadium lights… Professor Bell always keeps them on," Adrienne replied, trying to pull her hair from her eyes. 

"There are no lights!" Harry yelled back. "The rain's too thick, I can barely see!" 

"Then fly straight! And don't run into a tree!" Adrienne answered. 

As they neared the forest, Harry thought he could hear more shouting, which either meant one thing, more Death Eaters, or the Aurors had arrived. He dearly hoped it was the second option. 

"You know what?" Harry yelled against the wind. 

Adrienne was now flying next to him; both still at breakneck speed, shaking with nerves, and often turning back to make sure no one was following them. 

"What?" Adrienne yelled back. 

"We left the Golden Serpent back there." 

Adrienne didn't respond. Instead, she began an ascent, Harry following. The rain hadn't let up in the least. The wind pulled at their soaked robes, sending chills through both the flyers. But through the rain, a slight glow was emitting, and Harry smiled as he realized they were nearing the Quidditch pitch. And suddenly, the outline of a large castle, all its windows blazing, stood against the black sky. 

"Harry?" 

Harry turned to look at Adrienne, who was now staring at him, not even paying attention to her flying. "What?" 

Adrienne stared at him for a second. "Professor Wallace…" 

"With the fire there can't be… anything… left," Harry replied dully, "Did you know that she - " 

"No. Do you think Dumbledore did?" 

Harry thought for a moment, remembering back to his discussion with Professor Wallace. "Yes, I think he did." 

"She's dead," Adrienne said matter-of-factly as they neared the castle. 

They could now make out the entrance steps and the faces in the windows, which, upon seeing the two on broomsticks, suddenly disappeared. 

"That's what the killing curse does," Harry replied, shivering. 

They tumbled off their broomsticks and trudged up the steps, shaking in the cold. They paused at the top of the staircase, their hair flying in the wind, drenched in rain, dragging their broomsticks behind them. Without speaking, they clasped hands and pushed the doors open. 


	32. Returning

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

****

Chapter 32: Returning

For one long drawn out moment, only the sound of the rain pelting upon the mullioned front windows and atop the roof, the wind hollowing madly about the Salem lawn, and the incessant boom of thunder could be heard. Then, as the large front doors swung shut behind Harry and Adrienne, and the echoing sound of the latch locking them all in rang through the entrance hall, the castle finally came to life. 

"Harry!" 

"Adrienne!" 

An entourage of students burst forward, seemingly having appeared from no where, but in reality had watched the two students approach the school upon broomsticks. Students clad in black and emerald robes swung themselves at Harry and Adrienne in a frenzy of name screaming and praise of the wizards of yester-year, while only two students really knew of the consequence of Harry and Adrienne returning, the rest all acting along because a good scene of melodrama added life to the stories of school that they would one day tell their grandchildren. 

Hermione and Ron, through much shoving, elbowing, and Hermione on more than one occasion stomping upon the feet of several unsuspecting students, pushed their way to the front of the line and threw themselves upon Harry, as he was standing before Adrienne, who was holding her chest and complaining about claustrophobia. 

"You're alive!" Hermione hissed in Harry's ear, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face on his chest. "And wet," she added as an afterthought. 

"Professor Wallace," Ron interrupted. 

"She told us in the forest – " Hermione continued, getting past the initial shock of seeing Harry again. 

"And then they came, about fifty of them. We had to fight them off without our wands!" 

"Don't listen to Ron, he was the one who ordered us to run," Hermione snapped. 

The rest of the students, Salem and Hogwarts alike, pressed in upon the three, all trying to see Harry Potter. Adrienne stood behind them, staring at the back of Harry's head, her eyes glossed over in an unreadable expression. 

"Will all students please exit the entrance hall, except for Mr. Potter and Miss Miles." Professor Bell's magically magnified voice echoed through the hall. No one listened and the students just pressed closer toward Harry, who was making a desperate attempt to extricate himself from the middle of the room, having grabbed Adrienne's arm to drag her after him. 

"Students, please return to your common rooms, and those from Hogwarts, to the Gre… cafeteria," this time it was Dumbledore's voice that was magnified. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to demand the attention of the crowd either. 

The teachers were standing at the very back of the hall, trying to push out of the hallway they were crammed into, Bell and Dumbledore in the front. 

"Stupid kids never listen," Professor Glenn mumbled, pushing his way to the front of the line, and raised his wand to his throat. "Sonorus… All right! Listen up! I'm counting to ten… if you aren't out of this hall by 10 then I'm putting you and Adrienne alone in a Potions lab… with incendiary ingredients. You have been warned!" 

Silence sliced through the room as first the Salem students froze with expressions of sheer terror, turning their heads to look back at where Glenn's voice had come from. Then, one by one the Hogwarts students stopped talking, either because they knew the implications of Glenn's threat, or because they were just copying the others. And then, a massive exodus occurred as students pushed their way toward the various hallways and staircases, casting final glances over their shoulders at Harry. 

In a few moments, Harry, who had been remarkably silent the entire time, Adrienne, who too had stopped talking, Hermione, and Ron found themselves surrounded by Professors. And in a whirlwind of colored robes, raised wands, and flurries of instructions, Harry and Adrienne were whisked from the room, leaving Hermione and Ron standing silently, their jaws slightly open, in the middle of the empty Entrance Hall. 

****

"Let me see that cut." 

"How did you get covered in ashes?" 

"Harry, what happened to your wrists?" 

Dumbledore watched the bustle before him for only a second before ordering a silence, and then, to everyone's immense displeasure, ordered all from the room, even a tearful Mia, who began wailing even harder at having to leave Adrienne, who still hadn't said a word. Joe ended up dragging her from the room. Dumbledore watched the last of the professors leave, ushered out both Madam Pomfrey and the Salem Nurse, Brunhilda Thor, and then turned to look at Professor Bell, who had settled behind her desk. 

"It's my office," she said through pursed lips. 

"I wasn't expecting you to leave," Professor Dumbledore said without his usual jaunty tone. 

"Oh," Julia answered, blushing slightly. 

Harry sat quietly in the chair Dumbledore had issued him upon arriving in Professor Bell's office. He was fully aware of everything going on around him, as he had been since arriving back at the castle, and he somehow felt as if he were only watching a drama concerning himself, not really living it. He felt detached, unemotional, withdrawn… something he knew he definitely hadn't felt when in this situation the previous year. Harry cast a glance at Adrienne, who was sitting, her hands beneath her thighs, her bottom lip between her teeth, a small trickle of blood dripping from her lips where she had just bit her lip without realizing. She was rocking slightly, beginning to chew on her lip, causing Harry to look away in disgust. 

Dumbledore sat down on the edge of Professor Bell's desk, staring at the two students before him, his eyes narrowed in contemplation behind his half-moon spectacles. 

"First things first," he said in a soft voice, "are you both all right? " he asked, looking at each in turn. 

Harry nodded 'yes.' Adrienne hastily licked her lips to hide the blood before nodding 'yes' too. But before Dumbledore could pose another question, Adrienne revised her answer. 

"I have a triangle burned into my hand," she said in a slow drawl, her eyes suddenly losing their vacant look, being replaced with a narrowed one filled with anger. She glared at Dumbledore. 

"Do you want to know why I have a triangle burned into my hand?" she asked in an even more deadly whisper. 

"I already know," Dumbledore answered sullenly. 

Adrienne stared at him for a second. "Are you going to sit there… or start explaining then… because I don't know." 

Dumbledore just shook his head, raised a finger, and turned to Harry. "What happened this time, Harry." 

Fully expecting this, Harry, in his mind still too calm to be acceptable, sighed. 

"After the Quidditch game, Adrienne ran into the forest, and I followed. We ran into this person who looked like that Professor Hartel lady, but it wasn't. We were stunned. The next thing I know I woke up in the basement of the Judiciary building down in the Gallows." 

Dumbledore listened intently as Harry continued the story, Adrienne sometimes interjecting something here and there. When Harry had finished, unlike the years before, Dumbledore was silent, not beginning his usual interview. 

Harry stared at his Professor for a few seconds, trying to read the old face before him, but neither expression nor action of the eyes betrayed Dumbledore's thoughts. 

"Aren't you going to ask any more questions?" Harry asked miserably, a sudden rush of fatigue overtaking him. 

A slow but steady ache was engulfing his body, and he leaned back further into the chair, running a hand to his head to rub his eyes beneath his glasses. 

"I expect you both have questions for me," Dumbledore replied, turning back to Professor Bell, who still had a hand to her mouth from Harry dueling Voldemort. 

"Why was Professor Wallace there?" Harry asked. 

Professor Dumbledore hadn't interrupted Harry's speech to clarify anything, much to Harry's displeasure. 

"Professor Wallace," Dumbledore started, standing up and slowly walking to the other end of the room to stand next to the fireplace, "was an Auror by the name of Acacia Yulp. I hired her, Harry, to keep an eye on Professor Snape, watch his back you could say. As I told you before, he was once a Death Eater and once a spy… still a spy, and still a Death Eater. Voldemort accepted him back within his midst, but even with Professor Snape's acceptance, I felt he wasn't completely safe there. Without his knowing, I sent Detective Yulp into cover him." 

"She's dead," Adrienne said dully, still not quite over the fact. "I saw her… dead." 

Dumbledore turned to look at Adrienne, who was now staring at her feet. 

"Why did Voldemort need her to wake Adrienne?" Harry asked, standing up, suddenly very tired of sitting, but too tired to stand, so he settled on leaning against the wall. 

"How come I needed to be waked in the first place," Adrienne muttered. 

"The Stunning Charm, Adrienne, causes one to lose consciousness." Professor Bell was the one to answer this time, her voice raspy from holding her breath. "You fell to the ground after being stunned. You probably hit your head. You hit your head only a month ago, and it seems Professors Glenn and Hartel never took you to the nurse. No doubt you had a concussion. Hitting your head a second time knocked you out cold I suspect." 

"Acacia - " 

"Call her Professor Wallace," Adrienne ordered. 

Dumbledore nodded and continued, "Professor Wallace, Adrienne, spent much time training in the healing arts, becoming just like Nurse Thor and Madam Pomfrey, a healer. It's an archaic term out of date today, but she was trained in using magic to heal both magical and Muggle injuries, your concussion being of Muggle origin, a simple bump on the head." 

Harry shut his eyes, telling himself that Professor Wallace went through a lot of trouble to just cure a concussion. He quickly stopped thinking that though, suddenly remembering that she was dead. 

"How did the Judiciary building burn, Adrienne?" Professor Bell asked, folding her hands atop her desk. 

"There was a big cauldron on the balcony." Adrienne shrugged. "You know about me and potions… I threw a bunch of ingredients in and ran." 

The room lapsed into silence and Harry slid down the wall to sit on the ground, placing his chin on his knees. 

"I want to know about the Golden Serpent. I want to know about this curse Voldemort used. I want to know about Adrienne." 

Adrienne's head snapped up. "I want to know about me too… starting with how come I got this." 

She raised her right palm to show Dumbledore. 

His purple robe sweeping behind him, Dumbledore strode back into the center of the room, his eyes fixated upon Adrienne's palm. 

"That's the mark of the Perfect," he said in a soft voice. "During the Perfect era, a trial would be given to all people. Those who passed were marked… a triangle burned somewhere into their flesh." 

"But I didn't go through a trial," Adrienne snapped, staring down at her open palm. "One wasn't arranged for me." 

"If no one arranges it, Adrienne, the magic will do it itself. You got that burn while in the MSB in Professor Wallace's class, didn't you?" Adrienne nodded. "You were injured while in a bubble meant to ensure protection." Adrienne nodded again. "But the bubble was created with a weaker magic. You, Adrienne, carry a very powerful magic within you, and it, the magic itself, not you, not me, not Professor Wallace, determined that it was time for your trial." 

"Some trial, I was attacked by a crazed lunatic from a 1000 years ago," Adrienne muttered. 

"I don't know what you did… and I don't think you do either, but you passed, and your magic burned a triangle into your palm." Dumbledore stared at her for a second and then smiled slightly. "I must say though, you are not the Perfect we all expected." 

"I thought that when a Perfect touched the Golden Serpent, a spell was activated," Harry said suddenly, looking up to stare into Dumbledore's face, hidden in the firelight's shadows. 

"According to your story, Harry, Voldemort had her under some sort of controlling curse when he gave her the pendant. Had she not been under the curse it would have worked; she must hold the pendant upon her own free will." 

"So, if I'm some kind of hot shot witch, how come I couldn't just wish instant death upon all the Death Eaters?" Adrienne asked sourly, quite perturbed now that her classification had been truly established that she still felt like an ordinary witch. 

Professor Bell laughed. "Adrienne," she said, shaking her head, "You can't master Transfiguration, you can't master Potions – " 

"I could do Transfiguration before Christmas. How come I can't do it now," she shot, narrowing her eyes. 

"Because you don't try to," Dumbledore answered matter-of-factly. "You made a real effort right before Christmas. But now you've resigned yourself to believing that you'll never be able to do it. You gave up." 

Adrienne frowned. "But that's a different kind of magic," she said angrily. 

Dumbledore shook his head and smiled at her. Adrienne couldn't decide if it was an amused smile or a sympathetic smile. 

"Adrienne, just like there are different levels of magical ability in modern magic, there are also in that of the Acabadian, or the Perfect, magic," he stared. 

"You're pretty low on the totem-pole," Bell interrupted. 

"Oh… and Harry's a big wig on your guy's pole, eh?" Adrienne asked. 

"I'm not a big wig on anything…" Harry interrupted. 

"Yes, he has a great amount of magical ability," Dumbledore answered. 

"And I have none," Adrienne murmured in disappointment. 

"You, my child, can duel," Professor Bell said with a smile. "And whether that's because of something due to you're being a Perfect or just because you like to win, it doesn't matter. You're good." 

"How can I duel without a wand," Adrienne answered, wringing her fingers, her eyes narrowed. 

She had been looking forward to the time when everything would be explained to her, but it wasn't turning out to be like she had imagined. This was just a confirmation of her inabilities at being a successful witch. 

Harry, head still on his knees, pulled Adrienne's wand from his pocket and tossed it to her. Adrienne jumped in an effort to catch it, holding it with her left hand and eyeing her wand strangely. 

"But it'll burn up." 

"Adrienne! It'll only burn if you touch it to your palm… hold it with your fingertips and you'll be fine," Professor Bell answered, shaking her head at the girl. 

"Back to what happened tonight," Harry suggested dully, looking up at Dumbledore. "You said Professor Wallace was brought into protect Professor Snape. Was he there tonight?" 

"No." Dumbledore replied, folding his hands before him. "It seems that Voldemort has not entrusted any classified knowledge to Snape, and he wasn't told about the plan. Professor Wallace, on the other hand, obviously was." 

"She's dead," Adrienne said again, her eyes glossing over. "Dead as a door nail… she fell on me… I know." Her voice was rather hollow and it seemed to Harry that she was just rambling, having know idea what she was saying. Perhaps talking comforts her, Harry thought. "And then I burned the place down, along with her and the Golden Serpent." 

"Hopefully you're correct about the Golden Serpent being melted. I'm sure the aurors will be looking for it, and once they find it, it will be placed in a safer location," Dumbledore answered. 

"What about Wallace. She's dead." 

"Minister Fudge will deal with her, and her memory will be honored," Dumbledore said solemnly, standing up and turning to look at the fire. 

"He believes you now?" Harry asked, wrapping his arms around his legs and hugging them tightly. 

In the fire's glow, Harry could see Dumbledore shake his head. "No. This will all be covered up. There'll be an article in the various newspapers with rumors about Voldemort, but the Office of the Minister will deny the entire thing." 

Harry stared at Dumbledore. He was suddenly aware of how frail Dumbledore looked and Harry's jaw involuntarily dropped when he remembered how Dumbledore had acted the previous year. The aura of power that had surrounded him while speaking to Crouch Jr. and to Fudge just a year ago wasn't there tonight. Harry reminded himself that there was no need for it to be, no one was in the room that Dumbledore needed to impress. 

"Who's side is Fudge on?" Harry asked in a cautious voice. 

Dumbledore didn't turn around. Instead he took a step closer to the fireplace and placed his hand on the wall, staring down into the embers. 

"Another day perhaps, Harry, but not today," Dumbledore finally answered, turning around. 

He didn't look at Harry though, but instead at Adrienne, who was again chewing her lip, and fully aware of Dumbledore's redirection. 

"What are you going to do Miss Potter?" Dumbledore asked, walking forward and kneeling down beside her. 

"About what?' she drawled. 

Next to her, Harry heaved himself off the ground, pulling on his frayed and charred robe, staring at her behind his smudged glasses. 

"Under your mental condition – " 

"I was never crazy," Adrienne argued, raising an eyebrow. 

Dumbledore didn't notice. "Under your mental condition at the time of your expulsion, there are grounds for you to be readmitted at Hogwarts, if you still would like to attend." 

Adrienne didn't move, nor did she say anything. 

"You can stay at Salem and finish up your education here, or you can return to Hogwarts. If you still want to become an auror – " 

"No!" Adrienne said, shaking her head frantically. "No, no, no… I want nothing to do with aurors… they have a dangerous job, way too dangerous for me." 

Dumbledore nodded, his eyes kind as he looked at her. 

"So, do I still need this wand?" Adrienne asked, raising the wand in her left hand. 

"Yes," Professor Bell drawled. "Most likely, indefinitely, Adrienne." 

Adrienne didn't look at all disappointed. "So, Voldemort was expecting some amazing witch and he got me?" 

"You could learn to develop your powers, but I seriously doubt your ability will be much improved than your ability at our magic." Dumbledore answered. "You'll find times where you may make something odd happen, like conducting wandless spells in threatening situations, but that may be the extent of your powers." 

Adrienne looked at her wand, a small smile breaking onto her face. "Fine with me. I've had enough of all this Perfect business anyway." 

She turned to look at Harry, who was leaning against the wall with a pained expression, she couldn't read it though. "Harry dueled Voldemort. He did pretty good too I must say." 

This time Dumbledore was the one to smile as he stood up and walked over to Harry. With a gentle movement, he redirected Harry back into his chair. 

"You, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said with a formal air, "never cease to amaze me, or others. You managed to come away from another dangerous situation, handled yourself quite well I presume, and somehow, while trying to keep yourself alive, also kept your sister alive." 

"Which, I might add, I doubt was an easy task," Professor Bell interrupted, color coming back into her white face. 

Harry looked up at Dumbledore, a resigned expression across his face, his arms folded on his chest, trying to lean as far into his chair as possible. 

"And throughout all of your trials, you've grown Harry. You've grown in a maturity and intelligence far beyond many grown wizards. You've handled yourself tonight with amazing control, and I applaud you for that." Dumbledore nodded at Professor Bell, and at Adrienne, and then pulled Harry to his feet. "I assume Nurse Thor and Madam Pomfrey are waiting for you both." 

The four silently walked from the office, Professor Dumbledore leading the way. 

****

When Harry awoke the following morning, he found Hermione and Ron sleeping next to him, both leaning against each other, Hermione's hair stuck to her face, and Ron snoring slightly. Several beds away, he heard the soft murmur of Adrienne. 

"You blew up a Ministry building? You know you could get arrested for that?" Joe asked with a slight grin. 

Mia hit him on the shoulder. 

"She's had a rough time, don't get her worked up," Mia snapped, and then smiled gently down at Adrienne. 

"See, I did learn something in your class, Professor Glenn," Adrienne said with a smile. "But that's all I did was blow up the balcony, Harry did everything else. Well, I did use a magnificent bit of Transfiguration and collapse the roof of a stairway. But then I fell through the floor. I'd never have survived if it weren't for Harry. I'd be dead… like Professor Wallace. She's dead." 

Harry shook his head. Harry had the funny feeling that Adrienne kept repeating that Professor Wallace was dead for her own benefit, perhaps thinking that if she just kept saying the word, that it would lose meaning, that there would be no significance in the word "dead" and that Professor Wallace would somehow be alive, since "dead" wasn't significant anymore. 

Next to Harry, Hermione stirred, making slight noises as she lifted her head off Ron's shoulders and rubbed her eyes. She stared at Harry for a second before finally waking up. 

"Harry," she whispered, smiling cautiously. 

"Harry?" Ron said, him too waking up. 

"Harry!" Adrienne yelled, causing Mia to jump. 

"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked, leaning forward and offering him a glass of water from his bedside table. 

Harry took it and swigged the entire thing, the cool liquid cooling his entire body, which still ached. 

"I've been better," Harry answered, handing the glass back to Hermione. 

Ron nodded but didn't say anything. He just stared at Harry with a skeptical expression. 

"Perhaps you need to sleep longer, you look like warmed over death," Hermione suggested, reaching over and pulling his covers up to his neck. 

Harry just shrugged and closed his eyes again, suddenly very tired. "Keep talking, both of you, I want to hear your voice," he whispered. 

Hermione smiled, Ron leaned forward, and Adrienne turned on her side to watch. 

"We went straight for Dumbledore after escaping from the forest," Hermione started, but Adrienne interrupted her with a high squeal. 

"New subject," she ordered. 

Hermione turned to look back at Adrienne, who raised her eyebrows expectantly. 

"All right, new subject. The dueling final is next weekend Harry, you think you'll be able to compete?" Ron asked, seriously doubting it. 

Harry didn't answer, he just turned to his side, and continued to sleep, unaware of the continuing conversation around him. 

"Of course he will," Adrienne said, yawning slightly, and letting Mia push her back down onto the bed. "Of course he will, and he'll win too," Adrienne muttered sleepily. 

****

Professor Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey, Harry, Hermione, and Ron gathered on the Salem entrance steps. Behind them, a large group of Salem professors and students stood to bid them farewell. The rest of the Hogwarts group had left after Harry and Adrienne had arrived back at Salem, and were now resuming classes under Professor McGonagall, who was serving as acting Headmistress until Dumbledore returned. 

"You sure you're not coming?" Harry asked, staring expectantly at Adrienne. Adrienne shook her head. 

"No, I think I'll stay here," she said, looking back at Mia and Joe, who were standing behind her. "I'm kind of attached to the place, you know?" 

"Well, I'm kind of attached to you," Ron said hopefully, shrugging his shoulders. "Come back to Hogwarts." 

"Here that Adrienne?" Joe said with a large smile, bending down and putting his head on her shoulder. "He's attached to you. You don't want to break his little freckly heart do you?" Joe asked. 

Adrienne's smile dropped. "Stop it," she snapped, turning to look at Joe, who still was resting his head on her shoulder. "And I thought you didn't like him." 

Joe laughed. "Me, not like Ron?" Joe paused, his smile slowly slipping off his face, suddenly replaced with a calculating look. "Ok, he's not my favorite person in the world…" 

Ron cast a worried glance at Harry, who seemed too to have a skeptical expression. 

"But he ran around that entire night going on about how you and Harry were missing. So, I guess that means he cares somewhat for you. And you have to admit, Adrienne Weasley sounds kind of cu – " Adrienne promptly stepped on his foot. "Ok! Fine!" Joe shouted in pain, "I'll shut up." 

"Have fun cutie," Mia said, bending down and kissing the top of her head. 

"What do you mean have fun?" Adrienne drawled. 

"We packed your stuff," came a new voice, and Erica Lessie came walking down a nearby staircase, a trunk trailing after her. 

Adrienne laughed. "Really, you want me to leave?" she asked, trying to hide her excitement. 

"No," Mia snapped, her face aghast, "but you'll have fun." 

"And it will be safer for us," Joe whispered under his breath. 

Adrienne turned to smile at Harry, Hermione, and Ron, and then wiggled her eyebrows. 

"Think you still need a dueler?" Adrienne asked, smiling at Harry. 

Harry suddenly looked away, staring at his shoes for a second before looking up. And then, with a hesitant voice responded, "We bumped Ginny up to the Primary team after you left." 

For a split second, a look of disappointment shot across Adrienne's face, but then it disappeared. She just shrugged her shoulders. 

"Oh well, there's always next year, eh?" 

****

Mia and Joe watched the group disappear with the portkey. A slight wind had picked up over the night, and was whipping at their robes, sending the ends flapping around their ankles. Joe wrapped his arm around Mia's neck. 

"You noticed the difference between the two?" he asked softly. 

"Yeah," Mia answered, a slight pain in her voice. "I noticed a lot." 

"I wonder about his future," Joe said. Mia knew exactly who he was referring to. 

She nodded. "He'll do fine, whatever comes. Look at how he handled himself." 

"She's trying so hard to ignore what happened," Joe murmured, pulling Mia closer to him. He stared out over the grounds. "She acted perfectly fine in the hospital wing…" 

Mia turned to look at him. 

"Ok, if you ignore her obsession with that teacher being dead," he clarified. 

"They didn't catch any of the Death Eaters, did they?" Mia asked, changing the subject. 

Joe shook his head. "No, you know they wouldn't." 

The two stood in silence, listening to the birds chirping, and the growing howl of the wind. Finally, after several minutes, Mia broke the silence. 

"You think she'll keep going by Miles?" she asked. 

"She'll never change her name," Joe answered in a whisper. "I don't think she wants to either." 

"Potter carries such a high expectation. She can't live up to it," Mia answered. 

Joe smiled. "But she doesn't need to, she can duel." 

Mia laughed. "Yes, her brother makes it a habit of saving the world, and she can duel." 

"She even has a wand now," Joe laughed. 

Mia groaned and poked him in the shoulder. "Yeah, because you made her destroy her other one." 

Joe shrugged. "Yeah, that was a pointless experiment, eh? The girl can't even master being a Perfect." 

"But she has her heart in the right place," Mia said. 

Joe stared down at his wife and smiled. "Now only if she could figure out where her brain was sometimes… maybe then my potion labs would be safe." He raised an eyebrow and then laughed. "Never'll happen as long as she lives." 

"Nope," Mia laughed, "we should start a pool on what she blows up next year." 

"I'm all for blowing up Snape," Joe glowered. 

"Don't give her, or her little buddies any ideas," Mia hissed. 


	33. The Eurasia Dueling League

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

****

Chapter 33: The Eurasia Dueling League

Professor Snape glared out over his potions class, his fingers tapping his desk ruefully, his eyes narrowed behind his greasy hair, which had fallen before his face. The dungeon classroom was immersed in a deadly silence as the Slytherins and Gryffindors were hunched over the final part of their Potions O.W.L exam: the written exam. Every so often, a groan would emit from the corner of the dungeon, and when this unlucky student happened to be a Gryffindor, Snape would put a checkmark next to the student's name, reminding himself to take off large numbers of points for the interruption. 

Snape's eyes fell on Harry, who was hunched over his parchment in the far back, his quill scribbling furiously all the information he could possibly think of to answer the questions. A small smirk played on the corners of Snape's mouth as he contemplated taking points away from Harry for writing too noisily, but instead of reaching for his paper, which already had several marks next to Harry's name, he just continued to stare at the boy, wondering what was going on in his head. 

Harry lifted his eyes several times to look at Snape, shuddering slightly each time upon realizing that Snape was still staring at him. But, vowing not to let the greasy-haired weasel distract him, Harry pursed his lips and turned his attention back to answering his next essay: Explain the differences required when making a sleeping potion using Rorlweed and a sleeping potion using Gupplewort. Fun, Harry thought. 

****

Ron walked out of the dungeons two hours later, a dreamy expression on his face. "You know what, we're almost done, only two exams left and then we're finished," he said in a higher pitched voice than usual, lifting his eyes up to the ceiling in relief. 

"For now. Our NEWTS will be coming up sooner than we think though," Hermione said thoughtfully, reaching around and pulling a notebook from her knapsack, "we should probably start a revising schedule pretty soon." 

No one had a verbal answer to her statement. Ron shoved her in annoyance, Harry rolled his eyes, and Adrienne just stared blankly, wondering what about newts they had to study: They were pretty boring animals. The four made their way through the castle, trying to ignore the odd stares directed at them. The word had spread, and fast. Newspapers around the world were spouting the story of a confirmed return of Voldemort, while the Ministry was running at full force to counterattack these "rumors." So, naturally, as a large bit of gossip is never overlooked, all student attention was directed at Harry and Adrienne, trying to discern what had happened "the night the court burned," a phrase Fred and George coined from their song, which they hummed as they walked in step to the beat everywhere they went. 

"Seems that this is a regular occurrence now," Hermione muttered. 

Harry followed her gaze to the closed door several feet away from them. The Defense against the Dark Arts classroom was dark and locked. A notice posted on the door announced that all further defense classes were cancelled for the year. 

"What, they all die?" Adrienne asked in a meek voice, her eyes fixated upon the closed door. 

"I think the position is jinxed," Ron whispered suddenly, nodding furiously, "that's the only explanation." 

"Ever heard of a position being jinxed?" Harry asked, more to himself than anyone, actually agreeing with Ron. 

"They all die?" Adrienne asked again, a horrified look flying across her face. 

"They all leave," Hermione corrected, "quite unexpectedly." 

"So, do we take the O.W.Ls in Defense without a review?" Ron asked awkwardly, crossing his fingers in hopes that that particular exam would be called off. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "If you would have began revising with me when I began my schedule, you wouldn't need a review, now would you?" she snapped, glaring at him. 

Harry blushed in embarrassment as Hermione's eyes swept to him too, chastising him for his lack of studious effort. 

"Grades, I never placed much importance in grades," Adrienne muttered, eyeing Hermione apprehensively, wondering if this would amount to another fight about Ron and Harry's academics, as it had the previous night. 

"And that's why you're failing Transfiguration," Hermione responded, although her tone was much lighter, almost sympathetic… almost. 

"We'll see who fails Transfiguration." Adrienne raised her eyebrows and drew her wand. "I've been practicing," she drawled and then flicked her wand at a stray paper lying on the floor. It promptly transfigured into a toad and hopped away, croaking in a crispy manner. 

"Ok," Adrienne said in a short voice, lowering her wand, "if we have to transfigure anything into a toad, then I'm good to go," she called after Harry, Hermione, and Ron, who, trying to suppress laughter, had began to walk down the corridor. "Hey, guys! Wait up!" And Adrienne scrambled after the trio ahead. 

****

"Nah, don't do it that way, you leave yourself wide open," Adrienne remarked as she walked to the edge of the dueling ring, her hands on her hips and her wand sticking out from the bun at the back of her head. "You're standing straight at him. Look at your hips, see they're parallel to him." 

"What's your point?" Samantha asked as she and Rodney both dropped their wands at Adrienne's interruption. 

"Adrienne, please, let them finish their duel," McGonagall snapped, glaring at Adrienne over her spectacles. 

Adrienne rolled her eyes but continued to stare at Samantha."You stand like that and you may as well wear a big sign that says 'Hit me!' because that is the most undefensive stance you could take without dropping your wand and just standing there waiting to be finished off," she continued, saluting herself into the ring. 

"Listen, I've dueled like this since I began, and I think it's fine," Samantha snapped at Adrienne. 

"Oh boy, that's something to be proud of." Adrienne reached up and drew her wand from her hair, tilting her head to the side to eye Samantha. 

"Look, raise your wand at me, and I'll try and hit you with a spell. You block." 

Adrienne pointed her wand at Samantha, straight at her face, and then with a flick of her wrist shouted "Wingardium Leviosa" and repositioned the wand at her shoulder. At the same time, Samantha blocked, and then yelled as she flew up into the air. 

"Now, you see that? Didn't work. Want to know why, or do you just want to hang there… be Samantha, the Amazing Hovering Witch?" Adrienne asked, pointing her wand straight at Samantha. 

"Set her down, Adrienne!" McGonagall ordered, striding to the edge of the ring and drawing her wand. 

"Hold your horses, I'm teaching. Do I interrupt you when you're teaching?" Adrienne asked irritably. She had decided that if she couldn't compete during the dueling final, she was going to take up the unofficial role of assistant head coach, much to Professor McGonagall's dismay. "Let me explain this one and then I'll get out of your hair." 

"That's what you said last time," McGonagall replied, "Fine, but make it quick," yet she kept her wand ready at her side. 

Turning back to Samantha, Adrienne continued as if she'd never been interrupted. "Now, when you have your hips turned to your opponent like that, it just makes their target larger. You have to stand at an angle, you know, one foot in front of the other, your hips to the side. Like this." 

Adrienne turned so only her head was facing Samantha, the front of her torso facing the wall. 

"Ya see that? Look, only my side is a target now, much smaller. Makes it easier to lunge out of the way of unblockable curses too." Suddenly Adrienne whipped around, letting Samantha fall the three feet back to the ground. "They should work on lunging techniques too, Professor," Adrienne suggested to McGonagall. 

"It really was a curse?" Ron whispered to Harry as he, Harry, and Hermione stood at the side of the classroom, watching Adrienne trying to offer her advice. 

Harry nodded. "Some old curse, Dumbledore told me yesterday that he thinks he knows what it was. He's heard rumors I guess." 

"She does know a thing or two about dueling," Hermione commented as McGonagall saluted into the ring and dragged Adrienne from it. 

"Yeah, but she doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut," Harry laughed as Adrienne stomped her foot and pounded away from where McGonagall had drug her to. 

"She just won't listen to reason," Adrienne said in a huff as she approached them. "I told her that I could help, you know, give some pointers, because she sure doesn't know it all." 

"And like you do?" Hermione asked in a semi-joking way. She thought very highly of McGonagall. 

"One day I will," Adrienne answered with certainty. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione laughed at her, shaking their heads in disbelief. 

"Ok, maybe not, but I can pretend," she said sullenly, but then her face brightened. "Anyone want to learn how to lunge?" 

****

"Tomorrow's it, our last exam," Hermione said, a twinge of nostalgia in her voice. 

"Yes!" Adrienne shouted in relief as she flopped down onto the edge of Hermione's four poster. 

"How's the Transfiguration practice going?" Hermione asked as she reached for her large binder on her bedside table. 

Adrienne rolled her eyes. "Well, yesterday I tried to change a mouse into a snuff-box, you know, thought I'd start out with some easy first year stuff." 

"Congratulations on it," Hermione answered, smiling at the girl sitting in a pair of unmatching pajamas. 

"Nah, hold that thought. I turned my mouse into a pretty toad with whiskers." 

Hermione groaned. "Adrienne, you can't be turning anything to toads tomorrow!" 

"Wait, but it gets better!" Adrienne exclaimed, sitting up and puffing her chest out with pride. "If I do say so myself, I swear my toad had the same markings as the snuffbox I saw in the Gallows last summer. And plus, at least I'm not blowing things up or sliming classrooms; toads are an improvement." 

"Not by much," Hermione muttered darkly. "Are you going back to Salem for the summer?" 

"Yup, you can come and visit though," Adrienne replied. 

"The Dursley's won't let you go with Harry?" Hermione asked. 

"He didn't ask; from his stories I think my staying there would have disastrous results," Adrienne replied nonchalantly. "But you, and Ron, and Harry can come visit me anytime. Plus, we can bug Professor Glenn. He's so funny when he gets angry." 

"What will your other professor's say if you don't do well on your O.W.Ls?" Hermione asked. 

Adrienne cocked her head to the side. "What does that stand for again?" 

Hermione made a face but didn't answer before Adrienne continued speaking. 

"I don't think it matters because one, they don't know what it means either, and two, as long as I don't cause an accident, they're happy," Adrienne replied cheerily. "But, perhaps we should revise a little more?" 

Adrienne's gaze fell on Crookshanks. Hermione, picking up on Adrienne's line of sight, shuddered and jumped up. 

"No, I think Crookshanks and I are tired," Hermione said quickly, wrapping Crookshanks in a protective embrace. 

"Suit yourself," Adrienne replied and made her way to her own bed. 

****

"She's a tad bossy, goes off on tangents, and has a terrible temper… but she very well may be the best choice," Professor McGonagall said reluctantly, clearly not pleased with her own recommendation for the position. 

"And you know I can't do any competitive league coaching because of my position on the Board, it would be a major conflict of interest," Professor Lycé said, leaning back in her chair in the Staff Room. 

"I personally don't want her being given any sort of power, as little as it may be," Snape snapped bitterly. 

"The letter from the Board clearly states, if I'm not mistaken, Jasmine, that due to her international ranking, that she's barred from competing in even school competitions," Dumbledore answered, ignoring Snape. 

Professor Lycé nodded. "Yes, the Board did just vote on that several weeks ago. I personally give my recommendation. And Severus, it isn't as if she were to have any sort of title. I'd be doing all the administrative duties, she'd only be coaching. The two would be strictly separated. I would even pick the team." 

"It would be a gross injustice to those from other houses, especially those from Slytherin," Snape fired back. His face was contorted in deep anger, and his teeth were barred. "You cannot even begin to assure me that she'd remain impartial after her little incident at the last dueling competition." 

"Most likely Mr. Potter would make the team?" Dumbledore asked Professor Lycé, a thoughtful expression on his face. 

"Unless a drastic decline in his performance is noticeable, yes," Lycé answered. 

"Albus, Harry, as much as he and Draco dislike each other, would definitely make sure that she treats all the teammates equally. You know he'd do that," McGonagall said in a reluctant voice. 

"Couldn't we pay someone from outside the school to come in and coach," Snape suggested, raising a greasy eyebrow. 

"Minister Fudge has reduced our funding for next year. The budget doesn't allow for the salary of an additional professor," Dumbledore replied, shuffling through a pile of letters before him. 

"So she wouldn't be paid?" Snape said in a humored tone. 

"No," Dumbledore replied, "but it would be her team. She'd be announced as the coach. But you're right, she wouldn't be paid." 

"I think it's a mistake," Snape muttered. 

"I think you were a mistake too," McGonagall said shortly, a small smirk playing on her lips. 

"Wise a - " Snape started, but Dumbledore quickly interrupted. 

"We'll wait until after the Tournament," he instructed, and everyone except Snape nodded. 

****

"Anyone nervous? Good because nervousness does not support a good tournament," Adrienne said jauntily as she followed the Gryffindor Primary Team into the Great Hall. 

"Go away, Miss Miles," Professor McGonagall ordered. 

"Ok," Adrienne conceded, much to McGonagall's surprise, and slouched away toward the stands, her expression slightly downcast. 

The Great Hall was filled with the rumble of loud, excited chatter as students poured in to watch the final dueling competition of the year: Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor. The students had made various flags and banners to support their chosen team, and to Adrienne's disappointment, it looked as if only the Gryffindors were there to cheer on their own team, the other houses had signs for Ravenclaw. 

"Going to be disappointed when you lose?" Adrienne asked a Ravenclaw who looked like she was a seven year. 

The girl glared back at Adrienne. Adrienne shrugged her shoulders and continued walking along the stands, searching for an open seat. These open seats, however, had the funny tendency to suddenly disappear as she neared. Adrienne didn't meet stares with any of the students who were looking at her, nor did she reply to any of the comments made by the Slytherins. 

Her return from Salem hadn't earned her any popularity, especially in the light of Harry escaping yet again from the clutches of Voldemort. It didn't matter to anyone that Adrienne had blown up a cauldron and thus taken out several Death Eaters with one blow. As it turned out, the only people who cared about this was the American Ministry of Magic, who sent her a scathing letter banning her from returning to the Ministry Center of the Gallows. Adrienne glared at this, especially at remembering that Harry hadn't even come under suspicion. According to the Ministry, the poor hero had had the unfortunate experience of being lost in a Ministry building at the same time that Adrienne was. They too, like the English Ministry, didn't buy the story of Voldemort being the true cause of the night's events. 

"Corruption," Adrienne muttered as she finally found a seat next to Fred and George. 

The two red heads smiled innocently at her. 

"You look thirsty," Fred said, sidling over to her, a large and semi-sincere grin on his face. 

"Nah," Adrienne replied, eyeing the two suspiciously. 

"Now don't you lie to us, come on, we're practically family. Tell us the truth. You're famished," George said dramatically. 

"Here, want some of our water?" Fred asked, handing her a small bottle filled with clear liquid. 

Adrienne held out her hands to ward off the bottle. "Um, thanks but no thanks. Don't take it personally or anything, but I wouldn't drink anything from you, no matter what," she said, continuing to hold out her arms. 

"What? We're only trying to offer our aid to our brother's leading lady," George said, a look of crushed pride splashed across his face, "And you accuse us of trying to inflict undue magical harm just because we think you look thirsty?" 

"Yeah," Adrienne replied, nodding. 

Fred turned away, shaking his head disappointedly. He and George shared pained expressions, which didn't last long, as Seamus Finnegan had just taken the seat before them. 

"Seamus will drink anything," George whispered, suppressing a laugh, and then bent down to tap Seamus on the shoulder. 

Adrienne turned her attention to the ring down on the center of the floor. She took a deep breath and crossed her fingers. "Good luck guys," she whispered. 

"And here it is, the Hogwarts Dueling Final. Back for a second match are the Gryffindor Primary Team, and the undefeated Ravenclaw Primary Team." 

Cheers rang through the air as Neville began his announcements, his voice shaking as it usually did at the beginning of each match he commentated. 

"The Gryffindor team has made a change to its line up. Fourth year Ginny Weasley has been moved up to the Primary team, and Lee Jordan has been made co-captain with Harry Potter." 

Murmurs rose through the stands and Adrienne just shrugged her shoulders, and then jumped up. "Go Ginny!" She shouted, and then sat back down, her face red, "I sounded like a cheerleader," she moaned. 

"The meet should be beginning in just a few minutes folks, so sit back and enjoy." 

Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat quietly in their designated seats, each staring blankly into the center of the dueling ring. Directly across from them, the seven Ravenclaw duelers were also staring into the center, some wringing their hands in nervousness, but not Cho. Harry chanced a glance in her direction and watched with mild apprehension as she leaned back in her chair and yawned. Clearly she's not the type to get nervous, Harry thought as McGonagall blocked his view. 

"All right, this is it," she said, her crisp voice slightly wavering. Her eyes slid down the line of her duelers, not pausing on any face longer than the other. "We've spent countless hours practicing, running drills, and even lunging," she paused at that, a slight grimace overtaking her face. 

"I'm still sore from that," Lee complained with a painful expression, pretending to massage his legs. 

McGonagall ignored him. "We've only lost one game this year, an admirable effort for your first year of dueling. But, if we can… please, let's this time show the Ravenclaws that there's more bite in our team?" 

"Sure thing. Everyone, bare those teeth and growl," Ron said spiritedly, doing just that. 

The team burst into laughter, and one by one, each teammate tried their best at imitating a lion. 

"That wasn't very reassuring," Lee joked at Hermione's grow. "You're supposed to sound intimidating, not like you ate a bad fowl." 

Hermione glowered and crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Lee. 

"That's it, the scary Hermione face. Let us all take off in the opposite direction, as she might make us study until our brains, completely saturated, leak out our ears," Ron whispered to Harry. 

"Don't let her hear you say that," Harry hissed back. 

"Don't let me hear you say what?" Hermione interrupted, leaning across Harry to glare at Ron. 

"That you look ravishing today," Ron replied, smiling sweetly. 

"And so do you? Have a date with Neville's toad, have you?" Hermione answered without hesitation. 

But before Ron could think up another quip, Neville had returned to announcing, and the cheery atmosphere of the team was suddenly cut short. 

"The judges have just taken their respective seats and are motioning for the first duelers to take their places. Dueling first for Ravenclaw is Robert Grant, who will be facing Gryffindor's Ginny Weasley," Neville said as Ginny stood up, biting her bottom lip. 

The team whispered words of encouragement and offered last minute advice and pats on the back as she walked past them. 

"Duelers, on my mark," Dumbledore said after Robert and Ginny had bowed and raised their wands. 

Ginny took a deep breath as Dumbledore signaled them to begin. 

Shouting "Expelliarmus," Ginny jumped out of the way of Robert's attack, using the time gained from jumping instead of blocking to shout back, "Tarantallegra." 

The two continued tossing spells and curses back and forth for several minutes, and the flashes of the spells reflected off the darkened night sky showing on the Great Hall's ceiling. 

As the duel pushed the ten-minute mark, the first slip-up happened. Ginny, in an attempt to shoot a spell over her shoulder as Robert lunged behind her, fumbled her wand. 

"Stupefy!" Robert shouted, and without thinking, Ginny threw her feet up in front of her and fell toward the ground, barely missing the curse. 

She landed with a thud and the room rose with sympathetic groans, and then several disappointed moans as Ginny rolled out of the way of another curse, shooting her hand up and positioning it at Robert. 

"Expelliarmus," Ginny shouted exactly as Robert shot the same spell. 

Ginny was quicker though, and again rolled away, letting the spell ricochet off the flooring and off into the ceiling. Robert wasn't as lucky, and his wand clattered to the ground just at Ginny's feet. 

"That's one point to Gryffindor," Neville announced as Ginny handed Robert back his wand, simultaneously trying to brush the dirt off her robes. "Wait a second, the judges still haven't raised the maroon flag to announce the Gryffindor victory." 

Indeed, Dumbledore was bent close to Professor Vector, seemingly in deep conversation. 

"Why aren't they raising the flag?" Harry asked, leaning toward Hermione. 

"I don't think Professor Vector liked that Ginny won while laying on the ground," she replied matter-of-factly, her brown eyes watching the judge's table intensely. "I bet Professor Dumbledore will raise it soon though." 

Hermione was right. As soon as Dumbledore raised the flag, Neville called out the next duelers' names. Harry wished Ron good luck, and then winced when he saw Ron's opponent. 

Ron's opponent, Baird VonHensly, a large blonde haired seventh-year was already in the ring when Ron saluted himself in. He reminded Ron greatly of a younger, less hairier Hagrid, which didn't do much for Ron's already high-strung nerves. 

"Duelers, face your opponents." 

Ron tightened his grip on his wand and locked eyes with Baird's. 

"Duelers, bow." 

Looking back on his duel with Baird, who Ron later learned was actually descended from the intermarriage of a remarkably well-mannered troll and giantess some hundred years ago, Ron didn't understand why he had chosen the method of attack he had in the first place. He had, on the first spell cast, tried to stun Baird, but to his intense dismay and horror, instead of falling down with a loud thump, Baird had only shook his head and smiled a dazed smile as he shouted back the same spell. 

"Well, who knew that your stunning spell wouldn't be enough to stop him? I mean, look at him, doesn't he remind you of that troll from our first year?" Harry asked in a consoling manner once Ron had been enervated and returned to his seat. 

"Kind of, maybe his nose…" Ron mumbled, clearly embarrassed. "I should have put more power behind that spell. Did you see it? It barely fazed him." 

Rodney hadn't faired much better in his duel. His opponent, Lisette Warburton had hit him with the unblockable Vertigo Curse. Despite hearing the yell of "Lunge!" from the stands, he didn't manage to remember to do so before the curse hit him. 

"And the score stands at 2 - 1 Ravenclaw," Neville announced, keeping an eye on his toad, who was tottering dangerously close to the edge of the table. "Gryffindor's going to have to get atop their game if they're going to take home the championship." 

During Rodney's duel, McGonagall had been watching the other team, her eyes narrowed as she surveyed each dueler's manner. Cho's struck her as odd, but McGonagall didn't understand until Cho had drawn her wand and stood up as Lisette had disarmed Rodney. 

"They're switching places," McGonagall muttered angrily, jumping from her seat with amazing agility for someone her age. "Listen up, Potter, you're going next," she said as she strode down the line. 

Harry jerked his head up in surprise, his mouth slightly open. "Wait a second, I thought I was going last?" he said in horror. 

"Professor Flitwick moved Chang up. She's dueling next. If I'm not mistaken, they're moving up all their top players to try and finish the tournament now instead of waiting until the end to land all the points. You duel Chang, which means, you're up," McGonagall said, casting a glance over her shoulder to make sure Cho was indeed standing. 

"And onto the fourth rotation. From Gryffindor, dueling next is Hermione Granger. And from Ravenclaw is Padma Pa - " Neville paused as Cho and Harry saluted themselves into the ring. Cho didn't look happy to see Harry standing opposite her, especially when she was expecting Hermione. 

"Looks like there's been a last minute line-up change. And we have Gryffindor's Harry Potter." Shrieks of support rang through the hall, mingled with boos from the Slytherins and various other students. "And Ravenclaw's Cho Chang!" 

"What are you doing up here?" Cho hissed as she and Harry bowed. 

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Following you," was all he replied. 

"Duelers, on my mark. Three, two, one, mark!" 

"Rictusempra!" Cho yelled as she lunged to the left, and shouted in rapid succession, "Expelliarmus, Densuago, Stupefy." 

Harry blocked all successfully just in time to begin another rapid session of blocks. 

"That's how Harbinger Sveltsen dueled," Adrienne whispered to Fred, who was watching the scene before him with intense concentration. Adrienne didn't think she'd ever seen Fred so focused on one thing this long. 

"Who's Harbinger Sveltsen?" he asked, not taking his eyes from the rapid fire of spells echoing around the ring. 

"He's a dueler from Sweden. Took the international title five times in the 30s and 40s," Adrienne answered. "He always wore his opponent out first, then got him when he was tired. Pretty good technique, really, but you have to have the stamina to keep it up. Lots of duelers who try it usually wear themselves out too." 

It didn't look like Cho was about to wear out though. And with wide-eyes, Harry realized that she'd practiced this before. By the look on her face, he knew he was right. She wasn't even beginning to show signs of exhaustion, and Harry couldn't help but think that perhaps she was better than him. 

"Locomortor Mortis!" Cho cried, and again Harry blocked. 

"He hasn't tried one offensive move at all," Hermione moaned, crossing her fingers, "Come on Harry!" 

As Harry continued a defense, waving his wand before him desperately, trying to block all the spells Cho was casting, his eyes fell at the end of the Gryffindor team line, where Samantha was swaying back and forth as she always did when she was nervous. 

"That's it!" Harry whispered as he blocked the stunning spell. He locked eyes with Cho as she cast her next spell, but instead of blocking it, Harry leapt to the side, yelling "Expelliarmus!" 

Cho glared at him but blocked, shooting back the same spell, and again Harry jumped out of the way, using the spare time to try the leg-locker curse. 

"And Potter is back in the game!" Neville announced as Cho blocked the curse. 

"He's going to get tired jumping around like that," Ron whispered back to Hermione, "He's not in that kind of shape to spend all night being a human jumping bean." 

"I think he has a plan," Hermione answered, crossing her fingers even tighter. 

Indeed, Harry did have a plan. It seemed that he had gotten quite good at developing strategies during stressful situations. Again, his eyes narrowed in concentration he locked eyes with Cho as she shouted "Stupefy!" Her arm moved to shoot the same curse at the spot next to him, but Harry didn't lunge out of the way this time. Instead, he blocked the stunning spell, sent back the Expelliarmus spell, and then, as she raised her wand to block it, lowered his target and shouted, "Stupefy!" 

The spell hit her smack in the stomach. 

"And the two teams, with three rotations to go, are tied 2 -2!" Neville exclaimed, "And I think Cho Change and Harry Potter have broken the record for the longest duel, having spent 25 minutes in the dueling ring." 

Harry collapsed into the seat next to Hermione, breathing hard. "We're tied now?" he asked. 

Hermione nodded. 

"Good," was all he replied. 

"You should have seen the look on her face the first time you jumped out of the way!" Ron exclaimed, hitting Harry on the back. "She was so sure she'd take this one!" 

"And now, wait, they're changing order again! Up next is MaryAnn Webber and," Neville paused to see who was going to stand up from the Gryffindor side. "And Hermione Granger." 

"I don't remember her," Adrienne whispered to Fred, who shrugged her away, too interested in the tournament to put up with her constant interruptions. 

"George," Adrienne hissed, leaning behind Fred and tapping his brother on his shoulder. "I don't remember her." 

"That's because she's replacing her sister, who had a nasty encounter in Herbology. Got too close to the Merital Nycium." 

"Sorry, I guess I missed that Herbology lesson, but the what?" she asked. 

"The Merital Nycium," George repeated, leaning back to look at her, "eats brains. It clamps itself onto your ear and sucks." 

Adrienne made a horrified face. "It what? Is she ok? Is she dead? Do they have her on machines like in the Muggle world? Could Madam Pomfrey heal her?" she said in rapid succession. 

"Shh," Fred ordered. 

George held up a hand. "She's ok, you can survive a partial lobotomy. But it took the part that controls speech and stuff like that," he said in a suffering voice. 

Adrienne stared ahead, wide eyed. She slowly lifted a hand to her ear, as if it hurt. "Did her head cave in?" she asked, turning back to George, who was giggling with Fred. 

"Wait a second. That plant doesn't eat brains, does it?" she asked slowly, a scowl forming on her face. "Come on, then what does it do?" 

They didn't answer her, instead turning back to the match just to see that it was over. 

"OH! I missed it!" George moaned, hitting his knee. He turned to glare at Adrienne. "Next time keep your dumb questions to yourself." 

Adrienne was going to reply that if George hadn't lied to her, he wouldn't have missed the game, but decided against it. Instead she leaned down to ask Seamus what happened. 

"It wasn't very exciting. Hermione won easily. MaryAnn really was out of her league. Tried some fancy stuff and Hermione just brushed it aside and got her with the Vertigo curse and then disarmed her." 

Adrienne sat back in her seat, vowing not to talk the rest of the tournament lest she miss anything exciting. 

"With a score of 3 - 2, Gryffindor is in the lead, but not in the clear. All Ravenclaw needs to do is win the last two duels and the tournament is theirs," Neville said as the next competitors, Olivia Jester and Lee Jordan, raised their wands. 

"Anoptico!" Lee yelled and Olivia ducked. 

"Ex - expell..iarmus," Olivia stuttered, but Lee too had, unfortunately for Olivia, also hurled the disarming spell at her. 

The Great Hall filled with the cheers of the Gryffindor supporters, as Neville announced the score: 4 - 2, Gryffindor. 

"And with Lee Jordan's winning duel, Gryffindor has taken the championship. With one rotation left, Ravenclaw can opt to finish out the tournament, or concede the victory." Neville watched intently as Padma Patil and Samantha Henderson waited at the edge of the ring. "And it looks like the final rotation will take place." 

Adrienne sat up bolt in her seat and squinted to see better, leaning forward as Samantha and Padma bowed. Adrienne crossed her fingers under her legs. 

"Mind your stance," Adrienne whispered to herself, wishing Samantha could hear. 

"Stupefy!" Padma shouted as soon as Dumbledore had said "mark." 

Samantha blocked it with some difficulty, as Padma had sent the spell at her left hip. 

"Rictusempra!" Samantha yelled in return and then fumbled to block it as Padma had reflected it back to her. 

Harry winced as Samantha almost missed a block. 

"She's barely making her blocks. Any second now she's going to be too slow in reaching the next one," Hermione whispered to him. 

Harry nodded his agreement and glanced at McGonagall who also had a defeated look on her face, and who's mouth was twitching, almost as if she wanted to yell something to Samantha. But, of course, once a player was in the ring, it was an unspoken rule that no one was to yell advice, but according to Adrienne, this rule wasn't punished by the judges. Harry continued to watch McGonagall, quite able to tell how the rotation was going by her facial expressions. 

Suddenly, Harry saw McGonagall redirect her vision, this time to the audience, and Harry followed. There, standing up in the stands was Adrienne, her hands crossed before her, and a scowl on her face, obviously not pleased about the direction the rotation was heading. Sitting so close to the yells of the duelers, Harry couldn't hear the other students yelling at Adrienne to sit down. He stared at Adrienne for a second, and then smiled. 

"Samantha! Change your stance!" Harry suddenly yelled. He promptly ducked down behind Ron, fearing McGonagall's wrath, but it didn't come. 

Adrienne watched, a grin creeping onto her face, as Samantha rotated her feet. "That's more like it," Adrienne murmured. "Excuse me. Pardon me. Out of my way. Sorry about the foot!" She made her way to the edge of the stands, preparing to greet the team on their victory. 

"Don't you want to see if Samantha's going to win?" someone called behind her. Adrienne turned around and raised an eyebrow at Alicia Spinnet, who had called after her. 

Adrienne shook her head. "No, I'll just congratulate her when she does." 

****

The remaining part of the final week of the term flew by as if Father Time had been in a hurry to move onto another part of the year. O.W.L. scores were handed out, which put a damper on Gryffindor's double victory both on the Quidditch pitch and in the dueling ring. Samantha had indeed won her match, and had came up to Adrienne afterward to ask if the following year she might be able to offer some more pointers. 

Trunks were removed from their dusty homes under the beds, and wardrobes were emptied. Tears were shed, both from the prospect of leaving dear friends, and from McGonagall handing out the O.W.L. and NEWT scores. 

To no one's surprise, Hermione had received O.W.L.s in all the subjects she sat. Harry pulling away 9, and Ron 7. Adrienne refused to open her envelope, and put Harry in a headlock when he tried to open it for her. 

The Great Hall was once again decorated in Maroon and Gold to celebrate Hogwarts winning the House Cup again, although it was only due to their Quidditch and dueling victories. The only complaint Harry had as he was sitting and listening to Dumbledore's annual end of term speech, was that the end-of-year feast was not up to the exciting standard that had been set by the previous years, but Harry did relish the fact that it wasn't depressing either. 

Ron was leaning back in his chair, mumbling threats to kill himself if the food didn't arrive soon, Harry was listening to Dumbledore speak with as much attention as he could muster, and Hermione was sitting straight-backed, completely enthralled. Adrienne was sitting across from the three, and was asleep, her head atop her plate. 

"In light of this year's successful reinstatement of House dueling teams," Dumbledore started, having finished his obligatory reminder of not practicing magic over the holiday, "after much deliberation between professors and the Board of Governors, we have decided that next year will mark the first year that Hogwarts will participate in the Eurasia Dueling League." 

Ron sat up bolt in his chair. "Does that mean what I think it means?" he asked excitedly to Harry. 

"I think so," Harry replied, "Shhh, he'll say more." 

"The League team will be decided by Professor Lycé and myself at the beginning of next year, and will be a traveling team." 

"Adrienne, Adrienne, wake up!" Harry urged, tapping her head. "You'll want to hear this." 

Adrienne pulled her head up from the plate, her hair hanging in her face, a small clump stuck to the side of her mouth. "What?" 

"There's going to be a League team next year!" Harry exclaimed, smiling and thoroughly expecting her to leap for joy. 

"Oh," Adrienne said, her face hidden by her hair. "Sounds like fun. Love to hear how it does." 

"Aren't you going to try out?" Ron asked, his face frozen at the idea that she wouldn't. 

"Can you?" Hermione asked, "because I didn't think..." 

"Adrienne Miles!" Dumbledore's voice echoed through the room, and one by one, mouth's gapping open, the students turned to look at Adrienne. 

"What did I do now?" Adrienne mumbled exasperatedly, reaching up and pulling her hair from her face. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione cast confused expressions at one another… neither of them had been listening to Dumbledore during the past minute. 

Adrienne turned around in her seat and stared up at the High Table, where all the Professors were staring down at her, except Snape, who was scowling at Dumbledore. 

"What did he say?" Harry asked Ron, who just shrugged. 

Adrienne looked to her left and right and then threw her hands into the air. "Fine, I confess. I snuck into the kitchens and bribed the House Elves for pudding last night. Geez, you don't have to make a public announcement about it. A simple, private, 'Adrienne, start scrubbing,' would have sufficed," she said, blushing and crossing her arms. 

"I'm sorry, Miss Miles, but we weren't discussing stealing pudding," Dumbledore said, trying very hard to keep his face straight and not laugh. 

"Oh, whoops, forget I said anything," she said, turning even redder and lowering her head into her hands. 

"That's where my pudding went!" Filch shouted as he jumped up, but Hagrid pushed him back into his seat. 

"We were, Miss Miles, discussing next year's League Team," Dumbledore continued, "Professor Lycé has recommended you as the coach. Hogwarts' Board of Governors sent their approval this morning." 

Adrienne slowly lifted her head and stared at Dumbledore, her mouth hanging open. 

"Seriously?" she whispered, suddenly hoarse. 

"Congratulations!" Harry exclaimed, jumping up to hug her, but couldn't reach across the table. 

"Seriously?" Adrienne repeated, this time so everyone could hear. Dumbledore nodded and Adrienne promptly fainted. 

"She's going to permanently injure herself if she keeps this up," Hermione sighed. 

****

Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Adrienne stood on the top of the Entrance Steps, watching as the horseless carriages made their way toward the castle. 

"You promise you'll come and visit me?" Adrienne asked as she gave both Hermione, Ron, and Harry a hug. 

"We will," Harry answered. 

"And maybe you can come and stay before next term starts. Mum already said that Hermione and Harry could come," Ron announced, kissing her on the cheek, only because McGonagall was watching though. 

"Why aren't you going on the train?" Harry asked as he levitated his trunk before him. 

Adrienne rolled her eyes. "Professor Glenn got the wrong date on the ticket. My plane leaves tomorrow." 

"Why don't you just take a port-key?" Hermione asked, "That would be the most logical thing." 

"Yeah, but Professor Bell decided that I need to learn how to better manage myself in the Muggle world. I think those were her exact words, actually," Adrienne replied. "So, today I get to help Filch clean. Seems he's still angry about the pudding." 

****

"So, the Legend of the Golden Serpent, eh?" Harry said after eating lunch. 

"When you received that first letter from Sirius, you never thought it would involve you, would it?" Hermione said, raising an eyebrow. 

"No, let alone that it would involve Adrienne," Harry answered. "I wish I could have seen Sirius, tell him everything that happened. But I guess a letter'll do." 

"Where is he?" Ron asked, leaning forward in his chair, which were covered in discarded and inedible Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. 

"Dumbledore has him off doing something, I don't know what." 

"Adrienne's really going to be the League coach next year? But the other professors are continuing to coach the House teams, right?" Hermione asked, eyeing Ron's candy mess with distaste. 

"That's what Adrienne told me," Harry replied. 

"Must do something for her self-esteem, this coaching business," Ron interjected, obediently cleaning up the beans, "I mean, finding out you're some ancient type of witch and then finding out that it doesn't matter because you bite at that type of magic too has to hurt. And coupled with being cursed…" 

"At least she doesn't have to spend the summer with the Dursleys! Speaking of which, wait until the Dursleys hear I'm going to America to visit my long-lost sister," Harry laughed. 

"They'll lock you up for lunacy," Hermione replied. 

Ron leaned forward, an angelic smile on his face. "Don't worry about that. We'll free you if they do. Forgot to tell you, Dad wrote me last night… he bought a new car." 


	34. Epilogue

**_Credits: None of the characters or concepts associated with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels belong to me, everything else does. _**

****

Epilogue

"Albus?" 

Dumbledore looked up from the letter he was writing and smiled as Professor McGonagall walked into his office. 

"Minerva, how good to see you," Dumbledore replied, setting down his quill and smiling at his colleague. 

In response, Minerva offered back a thin smile. "I was just coming to see if there were any last minute projects for me to finish before I leave." 

"How long will you be gone again, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked, trying to make conversation. 

"Until the middle of July I suppose, perhaps later. I will be in sometime before then to assure that the letters are sent out." 

"Any plans for the holidays?" Dumbledore asked as he folded his hands atop his desk. 

Minerva shook her head. "I haven't made any firm commitments yet." She stood up to leave, but then thought better of it and returned to her seat. "Were they ever able to located the Golden Serpent?" she asked, staring at Dumbledore. 

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Well, Minerva, I've never known you to be so interested in my work. I think that's the fifth time you've asked me that since the end of term," Dumbledore laughed. 

"I am interested," Minerva replied in a low voice, showing that she didn't find her questions amusing. 

"Yes, Sirius located it. It's been destroyed, without the Minister's knowledge of course. Fudge would be ever so angry if we destroyed what he calls 'a brilliant artifact from our ancient past.'" 

"Yes, I suppose he would," Minerva replied, nodding her head. 

"I had told Fudge time after time that housing such an artifact was far too large of a risk for the Ministry to take, but does he ever listen?" 

"I am beginning to lose faith in him as a Minister. I'm afraid he may be our downfall," Minerva said, her voice softer than usual. 

Dumbledore stared at her with a grave expression, and Minerva knew even before he spoke that he agreed. "If we're not careful, he will be." 

****

"Look at this!" Adrienne cried, jumping off the couch and tearing into Mia and Joe's bedroom. Mia looked up from her magazine in annoyance. 

"What is it now?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and sitting up in her bed. "It's eleven at night, Adrienne." 

With a flying leap, Adrienne jumped onto the turned down bed, sliding into Mia, who yelped. 

"Quit it," Mia said, pushing Adrienne off her legs. "Honestly, I told you that you could sleep on the couch, but really Adrienne, that entails sleeping." 

Adrienne just waved an impatient hand and raised her other into the air, exposing a crumpled envelope. 

"You know what this is?" she asked, waiving it rapidly before Mia's face. 

"No," Mia replied, reaching up to grab it, but Adrienne pulled her hand back. 

"This, Professor Hartel, is a miracle," Adrienne said with a sly grin. 

"Oh, you finally opened your grade report?" Mia laughed. 

"And you know what?" Adrienne whispered, leaning in close to Mia as if she were about to tell her some forbidden secret. 

"What?" Mia whispered in return, trying extremely hard not to giggle. 

"I passed!" Adrienne shouted, jumping up and bouncing around the bed. "I passed! I passed! I passed!" She sang, as she began to wave the letter at Mia again. 

Mia smiled. "Always knew you could," she paused for a second, "wait, you mean even Transfiguration?" 

"Yup," Adrienne nodded, and then pointed at the paper. "McGonagall's even wrote me a note, shall I read it to you?" she asked, and then without waiting for an answer began reciting from McGonagall's perfect penmanship. 

"Miss Miles, I am pleased to inform you that you have been promoted to the sixth year of Transfiguration studies. I have enclosed a separate packet for you to review during your holiday, so perhaps next year your promotion will not be because of a sole percentage point." Adrienne's face fell at this. "You see that? She gave me extra homework!" 

"And you'll do it all," Mia said sternly. 

"And I even opened my O.W.L. grades," Adrienne said with an air of importance, trying to change the subject. 

"Your what?" Mia asked. 

"My O.W.L. grades," Adrienne repeated, her tone indicating that she too didn't know the meaning. "Hermione knows what it stands for... Old Wizards something or other, or Only Witches Learn… who knows, but I got my grades." 

Adrienne stopped talking and started pacing the bed. "Guess," she ordered. 

"You passed the tests?" Mia asked. 

"Five! I passed five!" Adrienne exclaimed, puffing out her chest in pride. "Dueling and Defense were my best scores though. We didn't even have a Defense review because Professor Wallace…" Adrienne paused and collapsed into a sitting position, "she's dead," Adrienne continued in a whisper. 

Mia groaned and raised a hand to her forehead. "We need to work on this," she murmured to herself. "Well I'm proud of you," Mia replied, lowering her hand. 

"Hermione earned 12 O.W.Ls; Harry, 9; and Ron, 7," Adrienne continued, crawling over to sit next to Mia. "Where's Professor Glenn?" 

Mia shrugged her shoulders. "He said he was hungry. So, when's Harry coming?" 

Adrienne stared at a picture on the far wall. Mia and Joe smiled back at her, Mia holding Joe's hand, her other hand holding the side of her wedding dress. 

"Sometime after this weekend; Ron's dad is arranging a port-key I think." 

"You better finish that Transfiguration assignment by then," Mia chastised, turning back to her magazine. 

The two sat in silence, Adrienne staring at the wedding picture, her mind drifting to the coming school term and beginning to plan what drills she'd use for her League team, Mia reading up on the new events taking place at the International Dueling Championship. It wasn't until the clock struck midnight that anyone spoke again. 

"Are you ever going to have kids, Professor Hartel?" Adrienne asked suddenly. 

Mia stared at her magazine for several seconds, and then she slowly lowered it to find that a pair of green eyes were staring directly at her. 

"Are you?" Adrienne asked again. 

"I already have tons of kids - " 

"Salem doesn't count. I mean real kids," Adrienne pressed. She was lying on her stomach, her hands holding up her chin. 

"Well, I do have to watch over you, and you kind of take up all my spare time. How could I have any kids anyway, Adrienne, you're in my bedroom during all hours of the night," Mia said, smiling sarcastically. 

"Only tonight I am, and Professor Glenn is off sneaking food. If that's how you spend your nights, alone while he bribes the House Elves, then you really need to reevaluate your plans," Adrienne said matter-of-factly. 

"This is not the sort of conversation I want to be having right now, especially not with you," Mia replied, her voice short. 

"Fine, but there is a potion, it was in one of Hermione's extra textbooks when I was searching her things to see if Harry had written her any love letters. It increases fertility." 

"Out!" Mia exclaimed, pointing a finger at the door. 

"Just trying to be helpful," Adrienne grumbled as she rolled off the bed, leaving her grade report on the nightstand. "That's for Professor Glenn to see when he comes back." 

"I'll make sure to show him," Mia replied, her lips pressed uncharacteristically tight. 

"But, if you have a better way to spend your night, forget my letter until later." 

"Adrienne!" There was a thud as a pillow hit the door that Adrienne had just slammed shut behind herself. 

"Just an innocent suggestion," Adrienne answered, as she inched the door back open. "Sleep tight, Professor!" 

****

"Stupid time change," Adrienne muttered as she wandered through the dark castle. She had made the mistake of sleeping whenever, which accounted for why she was wide-awake at midnight. 

Adrienne passed the entrance to the Cafeteria, but the lights were off, indicating that Professor Glenn had finished his midnight snack. Adrienne contemplated going to find some ice cream, but then remembered that the House Elves still weren't too fond of her. She instead continued to wander through the dark castle, her wand lighting the way. 

She had wandered for several minutes when she decided that there was only one thing worth doing at midnight: Sneaking into the library to find that potion recipe. 

"I'll just slip the instructions under their door one day," Adrienne muttered, raising a hand to stifle her giggles. 

She hung a sharp left and headed for the South Wing. It was the largest wing in the castle, and held the huge Salem Library, among other important details of the school. 

The soft click of Adrienne's shoes against marble came to a halt as she reached the entrance… a large set of double doors, that were always locked at night, for reasons that had never been explained to Adrienne. 

"They think they can just lock me out?" Adrienne whispered, slightly abashed. " Ha! Nox!" 

The corridor plunged into darkness, except for the faint glow of the moon filtering in through the window. 

"Alohomora!" Adrienne ordered, flicking her wand at the doors. 

"Still locked? Tricky," she muttered as she withdrew her hand from the locked doors. "But they'll have to do better than that." Adrienne again raised her wand. 

The ensuing blast could be heard as far away as the Gallows, and the quiver woke the entire castle. So, in increasing entropy, wands drawn and followed by sleepy yells of "we're under attack," echoing through the castle, the professors made a mad rush toward the source of the sound. 

"What did you do!" Professor Bell screamed as she, leading the pack, skidded to a halt in the corridor leading to the South Wing. 

Adrienne was sitting in a crumpled heap, surrounded by pieces of wood and stone. Before her the glittering of the stars shown into the corridor. On the ground, a sunken pile of debris lay, filling the dungeons to where it was level with the ground. The entire South Wing was gone, and the end of the corridor now opened to the heavens. 

"Adrienne!" this time Mia shouted as she entered, last, into the corridor. 

"All I tried to do was open the door," Adrienne mumbled, reaching up to brush the dust from her face. 

The professors stared dumfounded at the open land that was once the large, five storied South Wing. 

"I'm getting too old for this," Professor Bell and Mia muttered at the same time, not even bothering to ask if Adrienne was all right. 

"Well," Adrienne murmured as she stood up and sheepishly looked at Mia, "maybe Hermione could bring that potion recipe for you." 

Mia screamed in fury and then fainted, falling into her very confused husband's arms. 

****

"Wormtail!" Voldemort's screams of fury echoed through his chamber. "Wormtail!" 

There was a shuffle of feet, and the short man appeared, panting, in the doorway. 

"I don't understand it!" Voldemort screamed, pointing to the crystal ball in which he had just watched Adrienne's latest disaster, "How did someone like her escape?" 

"I believe, My Lord, she blew up the judiciary center," Wormtail stuttered, staring at the floor. 

"I know that, you fool!" Voldemort screamed, throwing his crystal ball at the wall. It shattered as Wormtail shuddered. 

"Unbelievable luck maybe?" Wormtail whispered, changing his answer. 

Voldemort sank back in his chair, his red eyes flashing. 

"Well, both their luck is about to run out," he whispered. 

Wormtail stared at his master, trembling as Voldemort began to smile a wicked grin. 

"You, you have a new plan then, My Lord?" Wormtail asked, although he knew the answer. 

Voldemort turned to stare at him with his red eyes. Wormtail took an involuntary step backwards, almost as if Voldemort's icy glare had pushed him. 

"A new plan?" Voldemort asked in a dead whisper. He laughed. The cold, piercing laughter preceded to echo through the room, long after he had stopped. "A new plan I indeed have, Wormtail. Harry Potter won't stand a chance. I'll steal his entire world from right under him." 

"And what about his sister?" Wormtail asked, wondering if he really wanted to know. He always dreamed about Voldemort's plans while he slept, which was the reason Wormtail avoided sleep when at all possible. 

"Adrienne? With her brother out of the way, there'll be no one to protect her. We'll leave her for later; she poses no threat, now that we know her Perfect powers will remain locked within her." 

"And what if they don't? What happens if she suddenly learns how to use them?" Wormtail asked, his voice suddenly bolder, telling himself that Voldemort must have overlooked this: That had to be the only explanation for why he wasn't worried that in theory, the girl had unlimited magical potential. 

"What if I suddenly embrace Dumbledore as my brother?" Voldemort asked with a sneer. "She will remain unable to harness her powers. That will never change." 

Wormtail decided not to respond to this. "So, what's the new plan?" he asked as casually has he could. 

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk," Voldemort hissed, shaking his finger at him as if Wormtail were no more than a toddler. "That, Wormtail, is a surprise. I would recommend that you sit back and enjoy the show. There is a thin line that divides mere genius from insanity. Some argue that I'm insane, Wormtail. But I argue I'm not, for the remarkable ability to create from nothing is a characteristic of a genius, and I, Wormtail, am about to create the largest conspiracy the wizarding world has ever seen. And Harry Potter will witness it first hand." 

**

EL FIN

**


End file.
